


Faerie Faerie Quite Contrary

by soulfulsin



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Dark Fairy Tale Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-14 08:21:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 20,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29415561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soulfulsin/pseuds/soulfulsin
Summary: In the world of the Faerie Courts, Lena de Spell has to follow her aunt's commands or else be revealed as a demon of the Night Court. Lena thinks that Scrooge McDuck cursed her when she was a duckling to become a demon; she little suspects that Magica put the curse upon her. When she fails to follow Magica's instructions, Magica decides to teach her ungrateful niece a lesson.
Relationships: Dewey Duck & Webby Vanderquack
Comments: 14
Kudos: 18





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, they're, like, faerie ducks. If that makes sense, which it probably doesn't. 
> 
> I didn't change names this time because, to be honest, I forgot those names a lot in Welcome to Dragonburg. 
> 
> Inspired by the Folk of the Air series by Holly Black.

As the head of the Light Court, Scrooge McDuck led the light-sided faeries and Magica de Spell yearned to take him down. Magica de Spell was, naturally, the leader of the Night Court. Fighting him directly had led to her being exiled to the Night Court, which had turned fortuitous, but she disregarded that. He’d cut her off from her brother Poe and saddled her with Poe’s daughter, Lena. To be fair, Scrooge hadn’t known about Lena when he’d exiled both Magica and Lena, but Magica seethed that she had to take care of the ungrateful whelp.

Yes, she used Lena as a power source. It was the only reason she hadn’t disposed of her. It turned out that the girl had a natural aptitude for magic, which Magica was quick to exploit. She leeched off Lena indiscriminately, which kept the girl weak and in thrall to her. Until and unless Lena discovered how to break the curse she’d placed upon her, there Lena would remain. 

She used the girl as a spy too, so she could know what her enemy Scrooge was up to. Originally, she’d pushed Lena into stealing the source of Scrooge McDuck’s power, but that had gone nowhere. Now, she kept her there whenever she needed to know if Scrooge was about to make a move or whether he was grooming anyone to be his heir. 

Scrooge McDuck’s grand-nephews were coming of age, as was their pseudo-sister Webbigail. Magica couldn’t care less what the brats got up to, but if she could use Lena to corrupt one of them, perhaps sway them to the Night Court, she’d have power over Scrooge. It didn’t matter what Lena wanted--as far as Magica was concerned, she answered to her aunt and no one else. Her free will didn’t exist; she was a puppet for Magica’s amusement.

And when she ceased being useful, she’d kill her.

Magica sat in the throne room, which was decorated with the bones of her slain enemies. Despite that, it was comfortable because she’d magicked up cushions too. Those cushions only appeared when her magical signature was near, however. No one else was permitted on her throne.

The throne room was dark, as always. In the dim corners, she heard pained howling and screams, which she ignored. If the malevolent sprites and spirits wanted to torture someone, they knew better than to dirty the throne room floor with it. She waved her hand and bade them take it outside. She would not step in blood again this morning, thank you very much. It’d ruined her last pair of high heels.

Trapped firefly sprites zipped around within their globes that hung from the ceiling to provide illumination. Magica snapped her fingers and a gnome hastened to her side. Prompt service. She liked that.

“I want my niece,” she ordered the gnome. “Bring her to me. I don’t care what she’s doing.”

The gnome, a creature that only came up to her knees who looked like he’d been grubbing about in the dirt, shuffled off. Rolling her eyes, she watched him leave and then turned back to see whether there was any other urgent news. She was supposed to hear petitions today, but unless the faerie folk had sizeable bribes for her, she put them off or outright denied them. It wasn’t time for petitions yet anyway. She had about a half-hour. 

When the gnome failed to return in a timely manner, Magica sent a night elf after him. The night elf wore all black, had tipped ears, and a blue complexion. It marched off, which was more like it. Its partner joined it and this time, Magica had only to wait a few more minutes before Lena’s protests echoed up the hallway. 

“Hey!” Lena snapped. “Hey, let go!”

“If she continues to resist, break her arm,” Magica called. That ought to shut Lena up. She could feel the sullen teenager glowering at the throne as the guards dragged her up and then threw her at Magica’s feet. Bruises were forming on Lena’s upper arms and when Lena tried to stand, Magica forced her down with magic. 

The gnome had disappeared through the door behind her. Curious. Magica sent one of her night elves to go look for him and then turned her attention back to Lena.

“You know, one of these days, you could _ask_ for me instead of hauling me around like I’m garbage,” Lena snapped. 

“I did not give you leave to speak,” Magica snapped. “You ungrateful brat.”

Lena looked up and her eyes brimmed with hatred. It was refreshing to see and Magica smiled back. She fed off her niece’s darker emotions and, in doing so, encouraged them. The angrier Lena felt and the more resentment she had toward Magica, the greater Magica’s power over her. Magica caressed her staff and watched Lena swallow back a retort. 

“I saved your life, you know. Scrooge McDuck would have thrown you to the wolves,” Magica said. “Yet, do I hear a ‘thank you’ from you? Any sign of appreciation? I didn’t _have_ to keep you around. I could have let you starve or die on the streets.”

“Thank you, Aunt Magica,” Lena said through gritted teeth. Magica could feel Lena’s resentment growing and Magica’s smile became more malicious. 

“I assume you know why I summoned you here,” Magica said. 

“To spy on the Light Court?” Lena snapped, rolling her eyes. 

“I’m getting awfully tired of your lip. You don’t sound like a niece who wants her curse broken,” Magica crooned. “If it hadn’t been for me--”

“Yeah, yeah, Scrooge’s spell would’ve killed me because he was hunting all the de Spells,” Lena said. “I know, I know.”

“Exactly. And that is why I have told you time and time again not to get too close to Webbigail Vanderquack or her little friend Violet Sabrewing. I have heard rumors that he is grooming the triplets to be his heirs over his niece and nephew.”

“That’s not new,” Lena scoffed. “He’s been saying that for years.”

“He’s close to finalizing it,” Magica said, continuing as if she hadn’t spoken. “Since you haven’t turned one of the triplets _or_ Webbigail against him, I want you to listen carefully. Scrooge McDuck’s major weakness is his family. I want you to neutralize one of the triplets if you can’t get all three. It can be done.”

“Won’t that lead to the Light Court executing me?” Lena pointed out. 

Magica scoffed, waving a hand. “You’ll figure out a way to survive, I’m sure.”

The Light Court didn’t tend to execute people, not unless they had good reason. Even then, they delegated it to a headsman from the Night Court. However, the plan that Magica had sketched out would almost certainly result in Lena’s demise, unless Lena unearthed a way to save herself. The Light Court was nowhere near as cruel and sadistic as the Night Court, but it had its rules too. One of the foremost was not to attack Light Court royalty, which the McDuck/Duck family was.

And if Lena didn’t escape in time, well, that wasn’t Magica’s problem. 

As far as Magica knew, the Light Court considered Lena to be an outlier, not associated with any particular Court. There were freelancers who drifted between Courts, as well as those who had dropped out of the whole affair. Neutral parties tended to care only about themselves. They weren’t cruel enough for the Night nor were they good enough for the Light. 

“I’m not doing it. I draw the line,” Lena said. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did it sound like I was giving you a choice?” Magica scoffed. “If you want the curse removed, then you will do what I command.”

“You’ve been saying that for years. I bet you don’t even know how to take it off,” Lena scoffed.

“I’ve almost got it,” Magica lied. Her eyes narrowed. “Besides, how do you think your precious Webster would feel once she found out that her supposed ‘best friend’ is actually an agent of the Night Court and there to assassinate her ‘brothers’?”

Lena winced. “You’ve been exiled from the Light Court. You can’t set foot there.”

“Oh, I can,” Magica assured her. “But I can’t do so without drawing unwanted attention. I will if you force me. And then the curse will have you and your stupid little Wendy. Is that what you want?”

Lena fingered the tip of her demon wings uncertainly. She’d had them since she was a child. When she was in the Light Court, faerie glamour concealed them, but she had to be careful to avoid being touched. That meant no hugging or close contact. 

As far as Lena knew, once the curse was completely activated, Lena would turn into a demon in truth. She would lose her mind and attack indiscriminately, mindless in her destruction. There _was_ a curse on Lena, that was true, and Magica _was_ the one holding it back. She’d also been the one to set it on her. If Lena had a change of heart and tried to back the wrong horse, so to speak, she’d see just how quickly that curse worked.

“You have your assignment,” Magica said and waved her hand again to dismiss her. Lena grumbled but disappeared. She winced when she walked and Magica thought perhaps she’d struggled against the night elves. That was her fault. They weren’t known for their compassion.

In the meanwhile, she’d need some entertainment. She snapped her fingers and brought in her jester, who was also under a curse. This curse was the only reason he stayed too because otherwise, he’d have flown the coop a long time ago. Flintheart Glomgold loathed her almost as much as Lena did and with good reason. When she was bored, she rolled him around on the floor and let her guards use him as a target. She’d had him as her jester, but he wouldn’t caper, so she’d needed to replace him with someone who would. 

Enter the Beagle Boys. They were stupid and quite grating, but Burger Beagle would do anything for food. _Anything_ , as she’d found out to her vast amusement. Burger Beagle had no self-respect. 

She grinned, thinking of Lena. Burger Beagle wasn’t the only one who had no self-respect anymore.

* * *

Lena glanced in the mirror at her horrible demon wings. She wished she could chop them off. Sighing, she turned away from the mirror and went about gathering her things for the Light Court. It might be her last chance to see Webby, one way or another. She would have to tell Webby how she felt, and Violet too. Whatever happened, she needed them to know how deeply she cared for them in different ways. 

She spent another ten minutes packing and then shrugged. This was as good as it was going to get. She might as well head out. 

She was not looking forward to this. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Violet's a fun little addition here. XD A little too suspicious for Lena's good.

Lena lived in fear of the moment when her curse was discovered. Despite how Scrooge McDuck appeared to the public, she knew that he must be a cruel man to have placed a curse on a duckling. At least, that was the way Aunt Magica told it. Lena had her doubts, but she didn’t have any corroboration for the story, so she had to take her aunt’s word for it. The only way to get corroboration would’ve been to ask someone close to Scrooge, which would’ve meant revealing her weakness. Plus, she was secretly afraid that mentioning it to anyone else would result in its coming to fruition. 

As a younger teenager, Lena used to dress in her customary sweater and a long-sleeved shirt. She’d transitioned to a black dress that fell to her knees and was transparent from her neck to the top of her chest. The dress had short sleeves that flared at her elbows; she still wore sneakers, however, to allow for an economy of movement. Her green sneakers had worn out ages ago, so she’d opted for black to match her dress.

Here went nothing. She didn’t want to attack one of the triplets, especially because it’d put Webby up in arms. Moreover, she didn’t think swaying one of them was possible, especially not after so long. This was a suicide mission, either way. She loathed her aunt Magica, but the loathing felt old and tired right now. 

On her back, her bat wings bristled. She was glad no one could see them; they marked her as part of the Night Court, and she considered them grotesque. No one in the Light Court had wings like that. Webby’s wings looked like butterfly wings, and Lena’s heart clenched just thinking about her. The boys had wings matching their attire, and Scrooge McDuck’s wings were a huge, red-scaled affair. They glittered in the sun.

It wasn’t just the wings that troubled Lena, though they were problematic themselves. It was her tail, which didn’t resemble a ducktail at all, but rather a dragon’s tail. Using glamour, she could disguise it, but she couldn’t conceal it completely. Bat wings and a dragon tail, all courtesy of that curse. Thanks, Scrooge McDuck.

The Night Court and the Light Court were far enough away that it was a trek to reach one or the other. Lena flew, and while she usually enjoyed flying, because it gave her brief freedom, now she was too wound up. If anyone should discover her curse, they’d ridicule her for it, and then Scrooge McDuck would put it into action. She’d turn into a demon and lose herself.

Lena shuddered, hugging herself as she flew overland. Her tail whipped through the air, too, and she wished she were normal. Why had Scrooge McDuck cursed an innocent duckling? There was always the question of whether Magica was lying, which was indeed possible. It didn’t mesh with the way he treated the kids or even how he treated Lena. But appearances could be deceiving, especially with faeries. 

It took hours to fly to the Light Court, which gave her entirely too much time to think. Webby and the others trusted her, which she hated. Betrayal would be much easier on Lena if they trusted her less or thought the worst of her. Her stomach clenched. She didn’t want to hurt one of the triplets. They were good kids. 

Not for the first time, she wondered whether she ought to capitulate to the inevitable. She was a monster; her aunt had certainly told her that enough times for it to sink in. Maybe she ought to let the outsides match the inside. Perhaps she ought to turn into a demon in truth; at least then, Webby and the others would be safe. 

Sometimes, she thought that they might be onto her. Webby was too naive, but Violet, Huey, and Louie seemed to sense something amiss. Huey appeared on the fence about it, but Violet and Louie occasionally asked probing questions. Lena shivered. Maybe after she passed the point of no return, she’d tell them the truth. It was the coward’s way out, but she didn’t see how she could live with herself after attacking and possibly killing one of the boys.

Assuming she could even do that. Her aunt thought in black and white, but Lena knew things weren’t that clear-cut. Moreover, she doubted she could hurt the people who had treated her well for these past six years. They didn’t deserve it. If anyone deserved to be harmed, it was her. She deserved all of the mistreatment; she was a terrible person, just like her aunt.

Lena’s spirits sank. It’d be safer for everyone involved if she vanished, honestly. She could disappear into the mortal world and hope no one from the Faerie realm could track her down. It was a futile hope, though. Her aunt’s power was unmatched by anyone but Scrooge McDuck, as far as she knew, and her aunt’s rage would be something to behold if Lena tried to give her the slip. For all that Magica loathed her niece, she considered her as property. And property didn’t get to up and leave.

She’d be punished for her disobedience. Worse, Magica might decide to attack anyway, and Lena’s disappearance would be for naught.

If it was possible, her spirits sank further. She wanted out. More than anything, she wanted her freedom. From this curse, from her aunt, and freedom to be with the people she thought cared about her. Unfortunately, she didn’t see that playing out. 

No matter what she did, someone would get hurt. At least if it were her, she’d be able to try to mitigate the damage. She hoped. 

It was in this dull, melancholy mood that Lena touched down into the Light Court. As usual, it was adorned with lights, ribbons, and streamers as if made up for a party. Children chased each other around and giggled. The very atmosphere was pleasant and cheery. Lena touched her cheek; she was crying. Irritated at herself, she scrubbed at her eyes until the tears vanished.

If the Night Court was dark and rife with people being tormented and tortured, the Light Court was its polar opposite. Everywhere Lena turned, people were happy, celebrating their good fortune and generally in joyous spirits. Aunt Magica said that it sickened her. Lena felt sick too, but a different kind. She was sick with longing. She wanted to belong here more than anything else and knew that she didn’t.

The McDuck Manor was located at the top of a hill; the Light Court spread out in the city beneath it. There were no illicit substances passed around here, no one screamed in agony, and just being here would’ve been like a balm to her nerves if she hadn’t been wound up so tight. Now it felt like being present was a condemnation. She would be the one to shatter the happiness. The McDuck family had its share of problems, like all families, but the Duck boys and Webby were well-loved by the community. Lena threatened that. She didn’t belong here, and the Light Court ought to recognize it and shove her out.

With a heavy heart, she made her way up the hill to McDuck Manor. She could’ve flown directly there, but she wanted to take in the sights. Everything ran efficiently here, like a well-oiled machine. There were few crimes because any criminals were dealt with swiftly and usually exiled from court. As a result, the city was safe, and you could usually walk about without worrying about being attacked. 

Her phone buzzed; she tried not to answer it when she was in the Night Court, in case Magica happened to have her spies about. As a result, Webby and Violet only heard from her about half of the time, which only served to make Violet and Louie more suspicious. They weren’t buying her “out of service” line. 

She pulled her phone out of her pocket and groaned--Webby wanted to know where she was. Webby always had cute memes to share with her and liked to check up on her best friend during the day. 

It was almost painful how innocent and adorable her best friend was. It was a shame she didn’t share that with Violet, who was suspicious by nature. Lena texted something non-committal in response and walked up the long, steep drive toward the manor. 

Webby flew out the door as soon as she arrived and tackled her.

“Lena! I knew you were here!” Webby cried. Violet walked up more sedately and frowned at the older teenager.

“I see that you’ve been ignoring our texts, as per normal protocol,” Violet said. “At least, until you entered the Light Court.”

Lena’s stomach clenched uneasily. “How do you know that?”

“You keep your phone off until you enter the Light Court,” Violet said. “Also, you have location services switched on.”

Lena cursed under her breath and pulled out her phone to switch those off in a hurry. At least she didn’t keep her phone on in the Night Court, because then her whole plan would be ruined. Well, not  _ her  _ plan--Aunt Magica’s plan. Lena felt sick just thinking about it.

Kill one of the Duck boys. Yeah, because that was so easy. Kill one of the Duck boys, somehow escape execution, and avoid having her curse triggered. Lena’s wings twitched.

“What’s wrong?” Webby asked, pulling back. “You normally hug me back.”

“Sorry, pink,” Lena said. Even as a teenager, Webby incorporated pink into her outfit. Lena missed the bow in her hair, but the pink skirt was a nice touch. 

“I’m a little distracted,” Lena admitted. That was about all she’d admit to, though.

“Did you know that there’s a way to see through faerie glamour?” Violet said offhandedly. Lena’s stomach dropped. Her wings twitched again and her tail swished, curling itself around her leg. She was already sick; Violet’s comment made her want to throw up.

“You don’t say,” Lena said, giving her a pained smile.

“Indeed,” Violet said. “I found the spell in the Duckburg Public Library’s archives quite illuminating.”

Yeah, she did not like where this was going.

“We don’t have to talk about that now,” Webby said, noting Lena’s discomfort. “Come on, Granny made cookies and--”

“It’s fascinating that Lena has a tail,” Violet continued in an observational tone. “As well as demon wings.”

Nope, that was a straight trip to get the expletive out of here. Lena backed away, resisting the urge to run.

“What are you talking about?” Webby asked, looking at Violet in consternation. “No, she doesn’t. And if she has a tail, so do we.”

“Not that kind of tail,” Violet said.

Lena cursed in her head. Aunt Magica had never mentioned there was a way to remove glamour. Considering that Lena’s task relied upon fooling people, she would have thought it might have crossed her mind. She was trying not to panic. Maybe this situation was salvageable. Webby couldn’t see through the glamour, after all. 

“Why don’t we talk about this later?” Webby suggested, grabbing Lena’s arm. Lena fought not to shake her off.

“You don’t belong to a Court, correct?” Violet said.

“Right,” Lena said, her mind racing. “I didn’t want you to see my wings and tail, Webby, because I was afraid you’d think I was weird. Or a bad person.”

“I don’t think that!” Webby exclaimed and hugged her again. “You don’t have to hide who you are with me.”

“Although it does beg the question why you felt the need to hide in the first place,” Violet commented and Lena wished to the powers that be that she’d be quiet.

“She’s self-conscious, that’s all,” Webby said and beamed at Lena, who offered her a sickly smile in return. That’d been a close save, but Violet wasn’t convinced. 

“Come on, let’s go eat cookies and talk!” Webby proclaimed, hauling Lena off with her. Violet followed close behind, like a second shadow. It was a temporary reprieve, that was all it was. Sooner or later, Violet would figure out more, such as looking into Lena’s lineage. 

Then again, neutral fairies didn’t have extensive family trees. Maybe that would deter her. 

Probably not. Lena suppressed a groan. 

_ Thanks  _ **_again_ ** _ , Aunt Magica. _

  
  



	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lena, in a moment of desperation, acts upon Magica's geas and grabs Dewey to bring him to the Night Court.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I got a little bit of a plot bunny. Also, Lena and Webby love each other, but whether that’s platonic or not, you can figure out. :P I didn’t put it in the tags, but, you know. XD

Big adventure was calling his name. Dewey was ready and waiting for it to take hold of him. They were supposed to go out on a high stakes, death-defying trip, except that Uncle Scrooge had canceled at the last minute. What was that? Since when did  _ Scrooge  _ of all people cancel trips? There was clearly something very wrong here and he intended to get to the bottom of it. 

As soon as he found Webby, that was. 

She was his other half and it was weird for her not to answer her cell phone, not even to check her texts. Disconcerted, he vowed that he’d find her. She had to be somewhere in the manor. She would’ve told him if they were going out, right? Not that it was any of his business, especially if they were having a girls’ day out, but that combined with her not answering her phone made him twitchy.

After abandoning his last effort to call her, he set off through the manor. She wasn’t in her room and although the manor was huge, Dewey knew every room (or thought he did). He’d been living here since he was ten and he was sixteen now. Poking his head into one room, he found his mother and Huey playing an old computer game. They were oblivious to his intrusion.

Louie was on the phone with his feet up on a desk with papers piled near his feet. He appeared to be brokering a deal and Dewey quickly headed out, because he didn’t understand anything about business. At least, not the money end of it. He liked the adventuring and adding to the finances with priceless artifacts, though he understood that was uncommon in businesses.

Launchpad was out in the garage and he knew Webby was never in there, so he didn’t linger. Where could the girls have gone? He knew Lena was supposed to come over today and she was her best friend, though not quite in the same way as Dewey. It was weird for him to think of her with anyone else, not because he was territorial, but because he didn’t think anyone gelled the same way with Webby.

After another sweep of the house, he was forced to conclude that perhaps the girls  _ had  _ left. His phone buzzed in his pocket and he read the text message. Webby was apologizing and explaining that they’d gone to the library. Dewey couldn’t remember the last time he’d been in a library--that was one area where he and Webby weren’t quite similar. Webby loved books, probably because of her early childhood, and she and Violet were avid fans of reading. 

He asked her why and she said one word: “glamour”. Dewey knew what glamour was, though the Light Court didn’t often employ it. Glamour was a dark trick, designed to convince mortals that the Night Court meant them no harm. What confused him was that she’d said that Lena was using glamour--why would Lena hide away like that? She wasn’t from the Night Court and anyway, she seemed like a good person. 

He could be mistaken. Louie and Violet didn’t trust Lena entirely. 

Shrugging, he pushed it aside. He’d go to the library, then, and hunt Webby down. She’d already told him that she was in the magical history section while Violet looked for the spellbook that she’d used to eliminate Lena’s glamour. That brought him back to the original question of why Lena needed it in the first place.  _ Was  _ she hiding something?

He guessed they’d find out. That didn’t explain his great-uncle’s behavior, though, unless Goldie had come into town. All bets were off when Goldie O’Gilt was involved. 

Thankfully, Dewey wouldn’t have to deal with that right away. He took a bus across town; he could fly, but he was feeling lazy today, rather like Louie. He hopped off at the library and went hunting for the girls.

As he approached the ancient archive section, he heard Violet discussing a particular tome. The smell of dust around here made his beak twitch and he fought the urge to sneeze. 

“As you can see here, dispelling faerie glamour is simply a matter of willpower,” Violet was saying. “The Night Court is legendary for using it for salacious and unsavory purposes.”

Lena grimaced, hugging herself. She looked off-kilter and Webby put a hand on her shoulder. 

“So, now you’re accusing me of hanging out with the Night Court. Is that it?” Lena demanded and Dewey stepped in before there was an argument.

“Woah, woah, I didn’t hear that,” Dewey said. 

“You didn’t hear most of the conversation,” Lena pointed out flatly. “I appreciate the concern, pink, but I can handle myself.”

Her wings pulled tighter into her body as she spoke, which gave truth to the lie. Dewey felt sorry for her, though he didn’t know what was going on. Lena was right--he’d come in only on the last part of the conversation. Whatever they’d been saying beforehand could’ve been, well, anything.

“I’m not accusing you of consorting with the Night Court,” Violet said.

“Could’ve fooled me, Vi,” Lena said acerbically. She folded her arms across her chest. “Why don’t you come out and say it, then?”

“You are oddly defensive today,” Violet observed. “We’re your friends, are we not?”

Lena’s shoulders sank. She looked like a trapped animal and she scanned the room before her gaze landed upon Webby in desperation. Dewey wasn’t always the best at interpreting things, but Lena was clearly nervous about something. He’d noticed that she hadn’t looked at him, as if she were deliberately avoiding his gaze. That made no sense--why should she? 

“Yeah, you’re my friends,” Lena said, but she didn’t sound happy about it.

“Lena, what’s  _ wrong _ ?” Webby pressed. They were in a corner of the library, at least, so the librarian shouldn’t come upon them and chastise them for speaking too loudly. Lena now had a deer in the headlights look and despite himself, Dewey felt worse for her.

“What’s with the 20 Questions?” he asked.

“After I dismissed the glamour about Lena,” Violet informed him, “I discovered that she possesses a demon tail and demon wings. I’ll show you.”

“No, don’t!” Lena pleaded. 

“We don’t love you any less for using glamour,” Webby said and the look on Lena’s face was heartbreaking. She turned her gaze away again. “We love you for  _ you _ . I always will, you beautiful idiot.”

“Pink, I...I’m sorry,” Lena said. 

“For what? You didn’t do anything wrong,” Webby replied, confused.

“Something is distressing you,” Violet observed. She took Lena’s wrist, perhaps to check her heart rate, and Lena yanked her hand away. This time, her gaze landed squarely on Dewey and she looked anguished. 

“Why did it have to be  _ you _ ?” Lena muttered, barely audible. “I  _ like  _ you. Why couldn’t it have been Louie? He’s already evil.”

“I’m not following,” Dewey said blankly. Lena sighed and threw down smoke bombs. Before Dewey had a chance to react to that, Lena had grabbed him by the arm and placed a blade against his throat. She was shaking and the hand near his Adam’s apple was none too steady. That frightened him more than her grabbing him. If she was nervous, her hand might slip and she’d cut him by accident.

“You’re coming with me, all right?” Lena said, tense. 

“You could’ve just asked,” Dewey objected. 

“Not...not for this,” Lena said. She hissed between clenched teeth and then darted for the door before the smoke dissipated. He didn’t know what she was on about, but when he opened his beak to cry out for Webby, Lena clamped her free hand around it. Once she was sure he wasn’t about to say anything, she released his beak and went back to dragging him across the library, out the door, and then onto the steps.

“I don’t understand why you’re doing this,” Dewey said. “Like, at all. What’s with the knife? And…”

He hissed in pain when the blade accidentally cut his skin. Not only did it sting, but it was iron. Iron could be lethal to faeries in large doses. Lena’s eyes widened and she gulped.

“I’m sorry,” she said. 

“Okay, but are you sorry to me or Webby?” he asked, honestly baffled. “Lena, you don’t have to do this. I don’t even know what you’re doing.”

“I wish I didn’t either,” she muttered.

She spread her wings and muttered a quick spell. They rose into the air, her knife still at Dewey’s throat, and they flew. Or, at least, she flew. He remained weightless and trapped by her magic. 

“Lena!” Webby cried from below on the library steps. “ _ Dewey _ !”

She’d seen the knife, Dewey assumed. Or else she’d seen the blood on the steps. He trembled, wondering if he had enough autonomy to knock Lena off of him. He didn’t want to injure her, despite her injuring him. He just wanted an explanation. Was that so hard?

“For the record, blue, this wasn’t my idea,” Lena said. 

“Follow her!” Violet cried and, to Lena’s obvious dismay, the other two girls launched themselves into the air. Lena whirled, hovering, her blade nicking Dewey’s throat. 

“Don’t move,” Lena warned. Her voice was shaking too. “He’s my captive.”

“Captive?” Webby repeated, looking blank. “Whatever you’re doing, you don’t have to do it.”

“Yes, I do,” Lena said and sighed, looking resigned. 

“Are you under a geas?” Violet queried. A geas was a magical compulsion that forced the victim to behave a certain way or complete a given task compelled upon them by the caster. Something flickered in Lena’s eyes and he knew she didn’t want this. That made two of them. Okay, maybe four.

“You wouldn’t understand,” Lena said heavily. 

“Come down,” Webby said. They were all hovering now, which required a prodigious amount of magic, especially since Lena was supporting both her weight and Dewey’s. 

“We can talk about this,” Webby continued.

“I love you, Webby,” Lena said. “And you too, Vi. But, no, we can’t.”

She tore off along the skies with Violet and Webby rushing behind her to catch up. Lena put on another burst of speed and cast another spell, this one obscuring their surroundings. Lena could presumably see where she was going, but no one else could. 

“Why are you doing this?” Dewey asked. He knew he shouldn’t talk, but he couldn’t help himself. They’d known Lena for years. She’d been Webby’s best friend. None of this made any sense. Plus, Lena was still shaking.

“You’ll find out,” Lena said and her voice was tight. “Just...stop talking, okay? I don’t need any more distractions.”

They lapsed into silence and it might’ve been his imagination, but he thought he saw a single tear slip down Lena’s cheek and fly off into the air that buffeted them.

* * *

She hadn’t done what she was supposed to do, but when push came to shove, she couldn’t kill Dewey. Honestly, she couldn’t kill any of them. Her heart broke knowing that she’d just destroyed her friendship with Violet and Webby. She’d meant what she’d said--she would always love Webby and Vi. 

That didn’t mean she wasn’t trapped thanks to Scrooge McDuck. That didn’t mean she could throw off her disguise and admit to the truth. At least Dewey had gone quiet. That was one small blessing.

And if she was crying, well, so be it. Dewey wasn’t about to comment on it and by the time she reached the Night Court, it wouldn’t matter anyway. None of this would matter. If Aunt Magica accepted that she’d returned with Dewey as a hostage instead of a corpse, she might be able to escape relatively unscathed. 

However, Scrooge McDuck didn’t negotiate for hostages. Aunt Magica might just kill him anyway. Lena’s throat tightened. 

“I’m sorry,” she said again.

“You keep saying that,” Dewey replied. “Do you mean it?”

“When we get there, just remember one thing,” she said, pushing it through her narrowed throat. “Your uncle started it.”

“Started what?”

She shook her head. That was enough conversation for now. She didn’t hear sounds of pursuit, but that didn’t mean that Webby and Violet weren’t on her tail. The magic required to keep them hidden and Dewey aloft and pinned demanded more concentration than she was giving it. Shunting her problems aside, she let herself pretend she wasn’t there at all.

It wasn’t a novel experience. She’d spent most of her life thinking that way.

She didn’t think Webby or Violet would ever forgive her. She didn’t think she deserved forgiveness, either. Some things crossed the line. Lena swallowed hard again.  _ She  _ had crossed the line and entered the point of no return. 

Gods below, she hoped that Aunt Magica didn’t kill Dewey. She had to be able to save him somehow. Something would come to mind. It had to. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to a review on this fic, I had the inspiration to write more. Also, I feel like I have more of a plot going on now. 
> 
> Poor Lena. I love abusing her because she’s my favorite.

Their cell phones didn’t work at this elevation, but Webby wasn’t concerned about that. She was struggling to make sense of why Lena had behaved as she had. Warring with her confusion over her best friend’s actions was concern over Dewey. She hadn’t sorted out her feelings for the middle triplet, but she knew they were stronger than simply friends and not platonic enough to be like siblings. Seeing Dewey with a knife at his throat had unsettled her stomach and to know Lena was the one holding him captive muddied the issue further.

Why had Lena felt compelled to do this? They’d been friends for years. Why act now? She didn’t know where they were flying, either, but Violet had taken the lead. They had long since lost track of Dewey and Lena, yet Violet had refused to land. Webby understood somewhat--if they told Uncle Scrooge and the other adults what had happened, they’d come after Lena in droves. Webby didn’t want that. She just wanted to know why Lena was so sensitive about her wings and tail and what caused her to think she needed to kidnap Dewey to make a point.

“Where are we going?” Webby called to Violet, who continued determinedly in a north by northwest direction.

“To the Night Court,” Violet said. “It’s the only viable explanation for Lena’s behavior.”

Webby halted. Her mind whirled. “No. She’s not--Lena’s not _evil_.”

“I don’t believe she is either,” Violet said, turning to face her. “I believe she has a compulsion placed upon her that is forcing her to behave this way. I saw the look in her eyes. This isn’t of her volition.”

“Why couldn’t she come to us about it?” Webby demanded. “We can help her. She didn’t need to kidnap Dewey!”

As she said his name, her insides twisted. The knife Lena had brandished was iron. A small cut might fester if not treated properly by a healer. The thought of Dewey sick or worse made Webby’s throat burn with bile. 

“She seemed to think that she needed to do so,” Violet said quietly. Her expression was pained. “Remember, Webbigail, that she told us she loved us. She meant that. We need to stop her before she starts a war.”

“A war?” Webby repeated. “Why would…”

  
She stopped. “Magica de Spell is the head of the Night Court. You don’t think she put a geas on Lena, do you?”

“I do,” Violet confirmed. “I believe that is part of why she didn’t want to tell us about it. She’s afraid we’ll reject her.”

“I’d never reject her!” 

Yet even as she said it, she thought about Dewey and wondered whose side she would take if she had to choose. She didn’t want to. She wanted to keep both of them beside her. The thought of either of them hurt sickened her and she swallowed hard, this time to keep her breakfast down. 

“Nor would I,” Violet said. “We need to reach her before she lands and convince her to return to the Light Court before things go too far.”

“How can we stop her when we can’t even see her?” Webby asked. Whatever obfuscation spell Lena had used was quite effective. She couldn’t see any hint of the duo ahead of them. 

“We have to get there first,” Violet said. “We’re wasting time.”

Then, without further ado, she sped off and left Webby to trail behind. Though Webby couldn’t see her best friend, she pretended that she could and that she could talk to her. If she could, she’d ask her why. It felt like such a broad question with so many other questions bundled inside of it. 

“How do you know where the Night Court is?” Webby called after another ten to fifteen minutes of silent travel with only the wind to break the quiet.

“I’ve seen it on maps,” Violet said. “I considered it important enough to my research to learn what I could about it, what little the Light Court has on it, but I’ve never dared go there on my own. The Night Court can be inhospitable to strangers.”

Strangers, undoubtedly what they were. “Isn’t it inhospitable to its own kind?”

“It is, at that.”

“Poor Lena.” And more importantly, poor Dewey.

“We have to--” 

But whatever it was they had to do, Violet was brought up short. A barrier blocked off further access by air. They would have to travel on foot. If Lena was ahead of them, she might already have penetrated the barrier. Moreover, Webby didn’t know what getting through the barrier entailed. Neither, judging by the unsettled look on her other best friend’s face, did Violet. 

“This is new,” Violet said. “And undesirable.”

They landed and Webby looked at the shimmering barrier before them. Though she had no idea how to cross it, she glimpsed Lena with Dewey. Recklessness seized her and she dashed at the barrier. Pain wracked her from head to toe. It felt like someone was flaying her and she clamped her beak shut to conceal a scream. The first rule of the Night Court was never to show weakness. Everyone knew that.

“Lena! Dewey!” Webby cried out when she could speak. The pain had faded as quickly as it had come, but she was shaking with the aftershocks. It felt like she ought to see blood soaking her feathers. She trembled, reaching out to them. Lena looked stricken, especially when Violet walked through the barrier and stood at Webby’s side.

“Pink, Vi...you shouldn’t be here,” Lena said.

“That was exceedingly unpleasant,” Violet commented. Now that they were through the barrier, Webby saw what Violet had mentioned earlier. Lena’s wings had curved bone tips and resembled a bat more than a traditional faerie. Her tail was scaly and wrapped about her leg. 

“Guys!” Dewey said. “You came.”

“Of course I came,” Webby said, shaking her head. “I love you too.”

When she said it, though, she wondered how she meant it. She’d never had cause to puzzle over it before, but she wasn’t so sure her love was platonic anymore. It didn’t matter, not at the moment. She’d worry about it later and what it portended.

“You shouldn’t have come,” Lena said. “I mean, you _really_ shouldn’t have come. My aunt’s going to be here any minute and you need to go. Like, _now_.”

“Your aunt?” Webby repeated.

“Magica de Spell,” Violet said. “Am I right?”

Lena looked askance, ashamed. “Yes.”

“Your aunt is the queen of the Night Court?” Dewey exclaimed. Webby saw that Lena was no longer holding him at knifepoint. Aside from the shallow scratch on his throat, he appeared uninjured. She didn’t know whether Dewey had come willingly through the barrier or if Lena had decided the knife was no longer necessary. Had it hurt him too to enter? She dashed forward and threw her arms around him. He hugged her back fiercely.

“Yes,” Lena said. She looked utterly miserable. “But this isn’t my aunt’s doing. It’s your uncle Scrooge’s fault.”

“What’s Uncle Scrooge’s fault?” Dewey asked, baffled. He was still clutching Webby, who caressed Dewey’s scratch with her thumb. Was she in love with him? Was that what she’d been fighting for so long now? Why was her mind straying when she needed it strictly on the topic at hand?

“Yes, Lena, why don’t you tell them all about it?” An unfamiliar voice crooned and Webby stiffened, thrusting Dewey behind her. She assumed an offensive stance, fists coiled and ready to strike. 

“Tell them how Scrooge McDuck cursed an innocent duckling to turn into a demon and only he holds the counterspell,” Magica de Spell said. She wore a black dress that fell past her feet and dragged on the ground. Webby smelled rot and decay, as well as other, less pleasant odors. They stood in an overgrown vegetable patch and she thought she glimpsed a dead body a few yards away. 

“Uncle Scrooge wouldn’t do that,” Dewey argued from behind Webby. “He’d never hurt a kid.”

“Are you so sure about that?” Magica sneered. “Shall I illustrate for you the power of his curse?”

“What?” Lena said and her hands were shaking again. “What are you talking about?”

“I told you to kill one of the triplets, not bring him here,” Magica snapped at her niece. “There will be consequences for your misbehavior.”

“ _Kill_ Dewey?” Webby said, aghast.

“I can’t kill him,” Lena said, chin upright and her gaze aligned with Magica’s despite her shaking. “I brought him here because I thought he might be useful.”

Webby knew Lena was lying. She’d brought him here for another reason, perhaps just to avoid Magica’s command. What she didn’t understand was why Lena would believe Scrooge would curse her. Scrooge loved children and he’d never hurt an innocent duckling.

“You can’t kill him because you’re too weak,” Magica rejoined. “Your precious friendship with Webster and Purple here made you _merciful_.”

“It’s _Webby and Violet_ ,” Lena countered. 

Magica spat “merciful” like a curse. “I bet you told them that you love them and you’d never willingly hurt them. Didn’t you, Lena?”

She was wielding Lena’s name like a weapon. The older teenager lowered her gaze and Webby’s heart ached for her. She moved automatically toward her side to grab Lena’s hand. Lena’s eyes brimmed with tears.

“Please, pink, I don’t deserve it,” Lena said quietly.

“You’ve even given her a pet name!” Magica said. “Well, since you won’t do what I want and you insist on protecting those wretched ‘friends’ of yours, the ones who destroyed you, I’m afraid I’ll have to take drastic action.”

“Don’t hurt them,” Lena said. “I’ll do whatever you want, but don’t hurt them.”

“How noble,” Magica sneered. “I’m afraid it’s too late for that.”

“Run!” Lena pleaded. “All three of you! Get out of here. Get out of here before--”

But whatever she was going to say died in her beak. Lena doubled over, blood dribbling from her beak. She fell to her knees and Webby knelt beside her. She put her hand on Lena’s back.

“Lena, what’s wrong?” Webby called. On her other side, Violet was trying to assess the situation while Lena coughed up blood. The blood drained from Webby’s face. 

“What did you do to her?” Webby snapped at Magica. “Why are you hurting her?”

“I’m only showing you her true nature, the one I gave her,” Magica scoffed. “Yes, dumb, dumb little Lena. _I_ gave you this curse. And I’m the only one who can remove it. Not Scrooge McDuck. Me. And since you disobeyed me for the last time, it’s time you see what happens to rebellious little nieces who can’t seem to recognize their masters.”

“You’re not my master, Aunt Magica,” Lena managed, whirling and glowering. “Guys, _go_. Please. I didn’t know--I didn’t think--”

“That’s right, you didn’t,” Magica sneered. She snapped her fingers and Lena crashed to the ground. Her hair turned black and she whimpered in pain. Black scales covered her body and when she looked up at them, her eyes had gone yellow. Yet despite the frightening transformation, Webby still sensed Lena within the demon that faced them. The horrible, piteous demon. She was fighting Magica.

“Maybe we should go,” Dewey said.

“None of you are going anywhere,” Magica said and snapped her fingers again. An unseen attendant appeared and she collared Lena with a leash. Webby snarled and Magica snickered, yanking on the leash until Lena choked, fingers scrambling desperately to take it off.

“Not so fast,” Magica said. “I can make this situation work. Scrooge McDuck doesn’t pay ransoms, that’s true. However, if I hold you as captives to ensure his good behavior, that might be another matter altogether.”

She dropped the leash a few inches and Lena gasped, curling into a ball. Webby wasn’t sure whether Lena was incapable of speech temporarily or, like the transformation, it was permanent until the spell was reversed.

“Let Lena go!” Webby demanded. “Change her back!”

“Oh, no, I don’t think so. I quite like her better in this form. She’s _much_ more obedient. Isn’t that right, Lena?” Magica said and slammed her heel down on Lena’s back. Lena yelped and, unable to stand the sight of her best friend in pain, Webby threw herself at Magica. Wind buffeted her away and, undeterred, Webby fought it. 

“Stop hurting her!” Webby cried.

“I owe her for all the times she refused to follow my commands,” Magica said. “I wanted her to attack one of the triplets years ago and she refused. The only reason she obeyed this time was that I forced her hand. Even now, she’s fighting me.”

It was true. Lena struggled to stand only for Magica to cuff her and send her sprawling back to the ground. 

Lena opened her beak to speak, perhaps to plead with them to leave, but all that left her beak was a sibilant hiss.

“Oh, didn’t I tell you?” Magica said. “She can’t speak any known languages anymore. She’s literally dumb.”

Violet was looking at Magica with the utmost hatred. “We need to get reinforcements, Webbigail. Dewford.”

“You’re not leaving,” Magica said. “The barrier won’t allow you to leave now that you’ve gone through. The only way you’re getting out is if Scrooge McDuck himself steps foot in the Night Court and demands your release. And really, why should he? After all, you’re _not family_ , are you, Webster?”

Webby flinched. She tried to meet Lena’s gaze, but Lena was staring, morose, at the ground. She was on all fours like a dog. 

“The only one of you he might care about is Dewey Duck,” Magica continued. “But we’ll see. Come along, Lena.”

Magica yanked on Lena’s leash and dragged her niece behind her. “You three might as well make yourselves at home in the Night Court. You’re going to be here a while.”

Furious, Webby tried again to launch herself at Magica, but again found herself thrown backward by the gust Magica whipped up. She watched Magica disappear into the shadows and as if knowing that they were watching, Magica kicked Lena before vanishing out of sight.

Dewey threw himself at the barrier and it didn’t yield. It did, however, hurt, judging by his yelp. 

“We have to figure out a way out of here,” Webby said. She was sick physically and emotionally seeing Magica’s abuse. Plus, Dewey’s cut hadn’t healed.

“And we need to alert the others to our predicament,” Violet concurred. She held up her phone. “Yet we have no service and no way to contact the outside world.”

“My brothers will notice I’m missing,” Dewey said confidently. Webby wasn’t so sure about that. Even if Huey and Louie did notice, they had no way of knowing that Dewey was at the Night Court of all places. 

“Magica will probably send a missive to the Light Court,” Violet said. “It all depends on how Scrooge McDuck responds.”

“What about Lena?” Dewey asked. They glanced at him and he shrugged. “Yeah, she held me captive, but it was to prevent her from turning into a demon.”

“We have to free her too,” Webby said.

“We have our work cut out for us,” Violet said. “First, escape for us and then reinforcements.”

Webby nodded, worrying about what Magica was subjecting Lena to.

* * *

“That went rather well, don’t you think?” Magica sneered as she sat atop her throne. She yanked on the leash to bring Lena to heel. “Plus, I have a new pet.”

Lena looked up at her balefully and Magica responded by tightening the collar about her neck until Lena could barely breathe. It didn’t stop the hatred in her gaze, which was fine because Magica was feeding off of it, but it did prevent her from attempting to mouth off even a little. Magica understood her, but no one else would. 

“You tried to warn your little friends,” Magica continued. “I can’t say that I feel sorry for them. They should have known better than to befriend a de Spell.”

She stroked Lena’s locks absently, as one might a stuffed animal or a dog. It wasn’t affectionate, more like she’d forgotten Lena was a living creature with feelings.

“They’ll enjoy their time in the Night Court,” Magica continued. “I know you do, don’t you?”

Lena didn’t respond. She could scarcely breathe, let alone reply.

“It’s almost a shame your father didn’t live to see this,” Magica said. “He might still be alive, you know. I wonder how he’d feel about the way I’m treating you. He’d probably enjoy the show. I know I am.”

A tear slipped down Lena’s cheek and she turned her face away. 

Magica sneered and kicked Lena in the chest. “Oh, stop that, you pathetic weakling. The worst is yet to come.”

  
  



	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was really inspired today. Like, really inspired.

Webby should have returned from the library two hours ago. She wasn’t answering her phone and all of the calls went straight to voicemail. Mrs. Beakley was worried and headed to the library, where Webby had told her they had intended to go. The librarian on duty was airing out the place; she said someone had thrown smoke bombs. She hadn’t seen what had happened afterward, but consulting the cameras told a different story.

Mrs. Beakley watched, feeling cold outside and in, seeing Lena abduct Dewey. The apologies meant little to her. She’d known Lena was conflicted for years, though she hadn’t known why. If she was from the Night Court, that would explain a lot. She needed to report this to Scrooge. The girls must have gone after Dewey and Lena, which answered a few questions but raised more. 

The outside cameras showed that Lena had nicked Dewey with the knife and Mrs. Beakley hoped that hadn’t been intentional, because if she’d intentionally harmed Dewey, there would be hell to pay. Scrooge, Della, Donald, and Mrs. Beakley considered the children all of theirs and an attack on one of them was an attack aimed at the adults too. Mrs. Beakley wouldn’t stand for it.

She watched the video a few times, but couldn’t discern which direction the girls and Dewey had gone. Since they’d flown into the sky, that meant there would be no video evidence beyond what the library had provided. She thanked Mrs. Quackfaster, departed the library, and called Scrooge. He’d been in a foul mood thanks to Glomgold stealing a lucrative contract out from under his beak. That was part of the reason he’d canceled their upcoming trip; the other part was that there was unrest in the Light Court. While he was nominally the Light Court’s leaders, he tended to delegate responsibilities and leave the actual ruling to his niece and nephew. That was what the children were being groomed for, to take over for them.

Scrooge didn’t answer the first few rings, though he picked up on the fourth.

“What is it, Beakley?” he barked.

“Lena has kidnapped your nephew,” Mrs. Beakley said, not wasting time with pleasantries. “Webby and Violet left in pursuit and now none of them are answering their phones.”

Scrooge was silent for a minute. She’d blindsided him. 

When he’d recovered, he cursed a blue streak.

“Is Dewey all right? Do ye know?” he asked after he’d ceased swearing. 

“It appears as though Lena nicked him with the iron blade, but I can’t tell from the video whether that was on purpose or by accident.”

Mrs. Beakley stood on the library steps. A younger, more limber person might have sat on the steps, but she didn’t fool herself. She might have difficulty leveraging herself up from the steps and that would be embarrassing.

“She’d better not have hurt him on purpose,” Scrooge said darkly. “Where do ye think they went?”

“Another Court,” she answered promptly. “But whether it’s a rogue Court or the Night Court, I’m not certain.”

“I see,” he said and his tone was indecipherable. “Find them, Beakley. And bring Lena to me. I need to have words with her.”

Or perhaps more than that. Iron not only hurt faeries, but it could lead to wounds that wouldn’t heal. Normal knife wounds would heal within minutes. Iron cuts didn’t always knit back together, especially without a doctor. Lena’s hand had been shaking, which lent credence to the idea that she’d hurt him by accident. The teenager seemed genuinely aggrieved to hurt Dewey, but that wouldn’t save her. She’d kidnapped Scrooge McDuck’s nephew. There would be hell to pay, regardless of Lena’s intentions.

If Lena was smart, she’d release Dewey and accept banishment from the Light Court. The desperation she’d glimpsed in her eyes suggested otherwise. Mrs. Beakley shook her head. Foolish child. 

What of Webby and Violet? Where were they that they couldn’t answer their phones? Were they all right or had Lena attacked them too? The latter seemed unlikely, but one should never underestimate a cornered foe. Like as not, Lena _was_ now a Light Court enemy. 

If Lena had hurt Webby, there would be no force between Heaven and Hell that would protect her.

Scrooge ought to be prepared militarily. Mrs. Beakley was more than just his housekeeper and an ex-spy. She was also his military advisor and she advised all hands on deck. They’d need all the force they could muster if Lena had taken them to the Night Court and on her head be it, the little traitor.

* * *

Little did Mrs. Beakley know that Lena was already suffering. Magica, gloating, had already informed her that any other outcome than killing Dewey would have resulted in her being transformed into a demon. She enjoyed hauling Lena along like a pet and occasionally kicking her. Lena had learned to avoid her blows, but she didn’t have access to her magic anymore. Her wings and tail were gone, which she might have ordinarily been thankful for if she weren’t completely at Magica’s mercy. Her aunt had none.

She didn’t know what had become of Webby, Violet, or Dewey. Magica was deliberately keeping her niece in the dark. At present, Lena was tied to the throne like a dog and she couldn’t walk further than a few feet without the leash choking her. Magica had added a charm that electrocuted her, like an invisible fence, in case Lena wanted to wrench the contraption off. Lena had found that out to her detriment earlier.

Magica had gone off to discuss strategy with her top military commander. Lena sighed. No one understood her--the guards just shrugged, gawking, when she spoke or ignored her outright. If they recognized her, they showed no indication of it. Instead, they called her a demon. A few even went so far as to attack her for fun. When she snarled, lashing out, they jumped back, out of range, laughing like demented children.

So not only was she Magica’s new pet, but she was also the Court’s new favorite toy. Miserable, glad no one was paying attention to her, Lena tried to find a comfortable position to sit in. She didn’t get service outside of the Night Court when she was here, but maybe she could still send messages to Webby and Violet. Yet when she looked at her phone, she couldn’t read anything. The curse had rendered her illiterate and, disgusted, Lena tossed the phone aside. 

A beat later, she realized she wanted it back and couldn’t reach it. She’d thrown the phone out of her range. Lena snarled, frustrated beyond belief. She wasn’t despairing, not yet, but the anger would cede to depression soon enough. 

Lena cursed her aunt, but it didn’t matter. No one understood her. She might as well be invisible for all the influence she had right now. Curling into a ball, Lena hugged her knees and sighed. She hoped that the others were all right. She was sorry for having dragged them into this sordid affair. She’d rather be a demon and have her friends be safe than the alternative. 

Poor Dewey. She hadn’t meant to hurt him. Magica had relieved her of the iron knife carefully after her transformation to prevent her from cutting her ties. All Lena had was her body in terms of weapons and they didn’t work if the person stubbornly remained beyond her grasp.

“Poor demon girl,” a voice said and Lena looked up. It was Boyd. Boyd was a changeling who had spent time in the mortal world until his real identity had been exposed. He wasn’t evil, but his father was. Mark Beaks had dragged Boyd in the Night Court and rumor had it that Beaks wasn’t even his father, but Gyro Gearloose from the Light Court was. However, Gyro either didn’t know where his son was or didn’t want anything to do with him. Either way, it didn’t matter.

“Boyd!” she cried. “You can get me out of this.”

The little parrot boy cocked his head at her. “I can’t understand you.”

Lena groaned. She couldn’t write it down, not now that she couldn’t read. Boyd curled up beside her and she hugged him impulsively. He wasn’t repulsed or picking on her. She wished she could tell him to go get Huey. Like Lena, Boyd frequented both Courts. Also like Lena, Boyd had a curse laid upon him. This one caused random bouts of insanity, which was why Magica kept the boy around. His fits amused her.

“Help me,” she begged, knowing it was fruitless. 

“I wish I could understand you,” he said. “You seem unhappy.”

He patted her on the cheek. “I’ll find someone who can speak your language.”

Then, to her dismay, he sprang to his feet and walked off. Lena jumped, trying to walk after him, but the chain jerked her back to the throne. She choked, waiting until breathing no longer taxed her and the spots vanished from her vision. Boyd would never find anyone in the Night Court who could speak with her. He was gone and he was her only hope.

Magica would keep the girls and Dewey away from Lena. If she was smart, she’d also keep guards on them. Lena’s spirits sank. _You never forgot the face of your last hope._ Especially as it went blithely along, rushing further and further away.

* * *

Though they were prisoners, the girls received a luxurious suite of rooms. Dewey, however, was missing. Webby was beside herself with worry about her best friend and now about Dewey. The revelation that she might have fallen in love with him had come at the wrong time. All she could think about was Lena being treated like a dog and stuck as a demon and Dewey suffering at the hands of the Night Court. Though the guards and servants had provided them food and entertainment, Webby couldn’t stand to look at or eat anything. Only magical compulsions keeping them from leaving the rooms prevented her from sneaking out to locate the others. 

Everything would be fine until Webby opened the door. If she stepped outside, into the hallway, she’d be palsied. Her limbs would shake and the further she got from the suites, the worse it grew. By the time she reached the end of the hall, where it intersected with another wing, she’d be shaking so badly that she’d frozen entirely.

That didn’t mean that Webby was giving up. No, she needed to be creative to beat this. She and Violet were already hatching schemes to break the compulsion. 

She didn’t know who was in more immediate danger. Magica wanted Dewey dead, but if she kept him as a hostage, Scrooge would be more likely to arrive at the Court than if she killed him. Although Webby had been trained to think this way, the logistics nauseated her. 

Lena, conversely, was at her aunt’s capricious whims. Webby had seen the way she’d mistreated her. If the mood struck her, she could kill her. Unlike Dewey, Lena had no advantage over Magica. If anything, her best friend would be an acceptable loss in military terms. Dewey would be problematic in multiple ways, but Lena would just be collateral damage. Maybe not even that. 

“You’ve been rather quiet,” Violet observed.

“We have to get out of here,” Webby said. If she didn’t leave soon, her mind would keep revolving over their fates and she’d be frozen completely. 

“I concur. However, we have yet to figure out a way to break the spell containing us. We also have no magical books at our disposal.”

“But we do have each other,’ Webby said, refusing to be cowed. 

In the distance, someone screamed as if they were being tortured. Webby shuddered. She couldn’t tell who it was or if she even knew them. There had to be a way out of this mess. She wasn’t about to sit and wait for reinforcements to come. Her grandmother had taught her better than that.

Light-sided faeries had different magic, though they tended not to be as powerful as sorceresses. Lena was a sorceress in training; Webby, by contrast, had no power over glamour and had spent much of her time perfecting her body as a tool. Maybe...maybe if they pushed themselves past the point of endurance in the hall, the spell would snap and release them.

It could, however, snap them right back to their room like a rubber band. She sighed. It was worth a shot, though. 

Without waiting for Violet, she darted for the door, opened it, and sped off down the hall. After four steps, her walking grew staggered. After five, it felt like she had leaden weights on her legs. After six, she was dragging around boulders attached to her arms and legs. No, she would fight this. She could figure it out. She had to. They were counting on her.

At the seventh step, she collapsed. Groaning, she crawled on her hands and knees. At the eighth slide, she panted, feeling like someone had dropped another boulder on her chest. Nonetheless, she pushed herself forward, inch by stubborn inch. The scream came again, louder, and although Webby’s spirit was energized, her body did not respond. 

_“Stop!”_ Dewey screamed and she gasped. Her fingers were losing grip as were her toes. Please, no. 

“Dewey…” she whispered and knew she could move no further. Her body was not responding at all. It felt like it was on fire and she panted, unable to draw a full breath.

To her side, she saw Violet had stopped. 

“We’ll find a way to help them,” Violet promised, her voice weak. 

Webby attempted a weak smile. They were only taking a little break to regain their strength. That was it.

* * *

Magica was not averse to sending Scrooge a small piece of his nephew to ensure Scrooge played by her rules. Maybe a pinky. She contemplated this, pacing around him in his chains. Dewey had needed to be sedated to keep him from screaming again. He’d also been fighting like mad, actually trying to bite her guards. Wild child. No wonder Webby felt such an affinity for him. They were two of a kind.

The problem, as Magica saw it, was that once she started mutilating Dewey, she wouldn’t want to stop. It was best not to walk down that road yet. There would be time enough later.

For now, she checked in on her new pet. Lena was trying without success to reach her phone. It lay within inches of her fingers, but not close enough to drag toward her. Magica considered giving the phone back to her. It wasn’t as though she’d be able to communicate with anyone. Lena looked up at her aunt with hatred and misery. Magica inhaled sharply, tasting Lena’s emotions on her tongue.

Then she kicked the phone into a corner. Lena growled and her eyes shone bright yellow in fury.

“Go on,” Magica said. “The more you hate me, the more miserable you become, the less of yourself you’ll be. You’ll lose little bits of yourself, like snow melting on a hot day until there’s nothing left but the demon.”

Lena froze, horrified. “Even you can’t be that evil.”

“And once you’ve fully transformed into a demon, I’ll sic you on Webby and Violet,” Magica continued, ignoring Lena’s outburst. “And you’ll rip them limb from limb. All off your hatred of me. So, you see, you’ve done this to yourself. The monster within will match the monster without.”

“Aunt Magica,” Lena started and swallowed her pride. “Please. Please don’t do this.”

Magica kissed Lena on the temple in a mocking manner. “You won’t have any choice. You’ll relish it.”

“I won’t hurt them!” Lena cried. 

“Yes, hate me more,” Magica crooned. Lena’s eyes now had slit pupils and her tail had returned, barbed, unlike her normal tail. “The more you hate me, the worse it gets. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I should return to what I was doing, contemplating which part of Dewey I intended to chop off.”

“ _Please_ ,” Lena pleaded. She was one step away from groveling. Magica both enjoyed and disliked Lena’s despair. On the one hand, she could feel all of that raw emotion and it energized her. On the other, it wasn’t turning her into a demon any faster. 

“Grovel for me,” Magica said.

“I’m not groveling for you,” Lena spat back and, as she did so, her wings returned, darkening and likewise growing barbed. She gasped. If Magica recalled the spell correctly, thinking would be growing more difficult. 

“Oh, I believe you are groveling,” Magica responded. “Plead for their lives. Beg me to save them.”

Lena whimpered. Again, if she recalled correctly, the transformation process was exquisitely painful. If she continued defying her, it would expedite the changes. If she put aside her pride and groveled, Magica would laugh in her face. So, really, there was no winning here. Not for Lena.

Lena searched her aunt’s face for an ounce of compassion and came up empty. Magica smirked, kicking her over, and returned to her military advisor. 

“I know you can understand me,” Lena called out after her as she walked away from her and toward the front doors to the throne room. “You wouldn’t be so happy if you couldn’t.”

“What’s that?” Magica said mockingly. “All I hear is a demon hissing.”

Then, laughing, she abandoned her to her own devices.

* * *

She needed her aunt to break the spell, which she wouldn’t do. As Magica had warned, her thinking was growing muddled. She clung to her mental images of Webby, Violet, and Dewey. They were all she had. Alone, curling into a ball, she tried to push away her rage. It was feeding on itself. 

“Webby...Vi...no…” Lena whispered. “Please. Someone, anyone.”

She didn't know who she was pleading with anymore or if it’d do anything. Chances were that it wouldn’t. She felt so impotent and powerless right now. 

She blinked. Boyd had returned with food. 

“Here,” Boyd said cheerfully and she could have wept. “I’ll find someone who can understand you like I promised. Don’t worry. I’ll help.”

She grabbed onto Boyd’s lapels and her claws tore through his shirt. Sighing, she pulled away. Demon hands now too. What a wretched creature she was. 

“I’ll help,” Boyd promised again despite this. “Right now, I can just sit beside you and talk at you.”

Webby, Violet, and Dewey had every reason to hate her. Maybe they already did. Maybe Boyd was the closest she was going to have to a friend. Boyd didn’t fear her, which he ought, but she wasn’t complaining. At least someone saw her as something other than the enemy.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scrooge decides to employ Poe to free Dewey, Webby, and Violet from the Night Court. Lena devolves further and Webby and Violet refuse to give up...but are growing increasingly desperate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written all in one day, the same day that I finished editing and revising my second draft of my novel. Bully for me. XD I’ve been busy today.
> 
> I ended up editing a couple of scenes in here so I didn't spoil things too early. XD

Desperate times called for desperate measures. Unbeknownst to Lena, as well as a majority of the Light Court, Scrooge kept prisoners. It was pragmatic and, at times, necessary for the good of the realm. Black Heron, the buzzards, and a few of his old foes languished in the dungeons beneath McDuck Manor. It was the last of his foes that he and Mrs. Beakley visited today. 

Poe de Spell. Imprisoned as a raven thanks to his sister’s abhorrent behavior, Poe flitted around his cell. He couldn’t fit through the bars and, other than servants tending to him, he saw no one. No one spoke with him, either. If Scrooge could have, he would have rendered Poe dumb, but he didn’t have magic like Magica. His magic was related to finding treasure and digging through the earth.

Poe looked up as Mrs. Beakley and Scrooge’s shadows fell over him. He smirked and Mrs. Beakley glowered. She hadn’t wanted to come here; this hadn’t been her idea. She had wanted to start immediately after the girls. They’d realized that the girls could be collateral damage compared to Dewey. Magica would want to keep Dewey alive, but Webby and Violet, on the other hand, could be “unfortunate accidents''.

Poe was as bad as his sister, if not worse. There had also been rumors that he’d been too close to his sister and that absolute power corrupts absolutely. If that was the case, then perhaps it explained Lena. But, no. Despite how furious Mrs. Beakley was with Lena, she refused to believe that the girl was evil. She needed more information which was, ostensibly, why they were here.

“So, you’ve come crawling back to me, Scroogie,” Poe sneered. His gaze slid to Mrs. Beakley; in raven form, he had the same peculiar yellow eyes with slits for pupils. 

“And you’ve brought a friend. Am I supposed to know you?”

“No, you’re not,” Mrs. Beakley said through gritted teeth. “Mr. McDuck?”

Scrooge leaned on his cane as he peered into the cage. His other prisoners were within cells; Poe was within a cage within a cell and set apart from the others. He flapped his wings at them as if he would fly at their faces. She had no doubt that he wanted to.

“What can you tell me about your daughter, Lena?” Scrooge asked and Poe faltered.

“Lena?” Poe repeated. His wings beat harder and he seemed agitated. “Is she in danger?”

“Oh, suddenly you care about your daughter?” Scrooge scoffed. “The lass has been coming around here for six years and now you’re concerned?”

Poe shook his head, but she didn’t know which part he refuted. “Is she all right? After the curse and the exile, Magica took her back with her.”

“To the Night Court, correct?” Mrs. Beakley said and Poe nodded. He looked stricken. This was the first time she’d ever seen him evince emotion for someone other than himself. She was surprised but, like Scrooge, suspicious.

“Yes,” Poe said and it felt like they’d dragged the word out of him. “Lena lives in the Night Court.”

“And I suppose you taught her all about villainy and torturing innocent children?” Scrooge snapped. Dewey wasn’t technically a child anymore--he was sixteen and nearly at the age of majority, which was seventeen. However, Mrs. Beakley wasn’t about to split hairs.

“I hadn’t intended to let her join in our activities,” Poe replied. 

“Not cruel enough?” Scrooge scoffed.

Poe shook his head. He was hiding something, she was positive. He flitted along the perches in his cage. “Is Lena all right?”

“Answer our questions first,” Scrooge barked.

Poe’s eyes flashed. “Lena doesn’t deserve to be tangled up with the likes of you.”

“He’s not going to tell us anything we don’t already know,” Mrs. Beakley warned Scrooge in an undertone. “We would be better off heading toward the Night Court and rescuing the girls before Magica decides they’d be better as collateral damage.”

“ _ Is Lena in danger _ ?” Poe repeated. If he’d been agitated before, it was nothing compared to now. He flew desperately at the bars and then at the door. “I need to get to my daughter.”

“Why?” Scrooge snapped. “Why do ye care for the wee lass when you’ve shown no concern until just now? What’s changed? How do ye know anything’s changed when you’ve been locked up in here?”

“You’re here, you said that ‘the girls’ need to be rescued,” Poe said. “You’ve mentioned Lena multiple times now. I have a right to know the truth.”

“You have no right to anything!” Mrs. Beakley snapped. “You forfeited that right when you went on your reign of terror with Magica de Spell.”

“Your daughter abducted my favorite nephew and whisked him back to the Night Court,” Scrooge informed him coldly. 

“That doesn’t sound like Lena…” Poe said and shook his head, smiling winsomely. It failed, primarily because he remained agitated. 

“How would ye know?” Scrooge pointed out. “Ye haven’t seen her in a decade.”

“It’s possible Magica corrupted her,” Poe allowed. He scowled. “On the other hand, all I have is your word.”

“I’m willing to consider giving you your freedom if you return Dewey, Webbigail, and Violet unharmed,” Scrooge said. Mrs. Beakley sputtered in objection and he held a hand up. 

“But if you arrive there and Magica has already harmed Dewey, then the deal is off.”

“Do you really expect her to listen to me as a raven?” Poe snorted. 

“That’s your problem, isn’t it?” Scrooge said, smirking. “I’m not the one who put that curse on you.”

Poe huffed, but he knew that Scrooge was right. When it came to potent curses, Magica was quite proficient. Mrs. Beakley wasn’t sure whether she’d intended to hex her brother, but the end result was the same. She would almost pity him if she hadn’t known his deplorable history.

“What about Lena?” Poe said once silence fell upon the room once more. “What do you intend to do about her?”

“We’re the Light Court,” Scrooge said. “We donnae kill faeries wily-nily like the Night Court.”

“If you hurt Lena, the deal is off,” Poe said in a hard tone. 

“You value your freedom less than your daughter’s life?” Scrooge said, surprised. “I would have thought you de Spells were all alike.”

“I’m serious,” Poe said and then closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, his gaze was searing. “Lena is blood.  _ My  _ blood.  _ My  _ daughter. I don’t know or care what she’s doing.”

“If she hurt Dewey willingly, then she must suffer the consequences,” Scrooge warned. “And if she’s done worse, then she must face her punishment.”

“And if she didn’t hurt Dewey willingly?” Poe challenged. 

“Are ye suggesting that Magica put her up to it?” Scrooge said.

Poe fell silent and then his gaze slid away. That was, indeed, what he was implying. Mrs. Beakley had known that Lena was conflicted, but did Magica hold that much sway over her? Or was it something else? There had to be something Poe knew that he wasn’t telling them. Maybe it was a bargaining chip that he hoped to use against them later.

“There’s more than Lena has told you,” Poe said at last. “I don’t know what my sister has been up to in my absence nor what she’s done to my daughter, but if Magica has secrets, so does Lena.”

“We’ll ferret them out,” Mrs. Beakley said, her eyes narrowing. 

“You’ll be our emissary to the court. Magica cannae refuse you, as you’re her brother,” he said. 

“And you’re going to count on me alone to bring out the girls? And your precious nephew?” Poe asked, incredulous. “You trust me that much?”

“Oh, no, I never said that,” Scrooge scoffed. “I never said you were the only ace up our sleeve. A wise man does not reveal all of his cards at once.”

Mrs. Beakley smirked. She should have known--plans within plans. Sharper than the sharpies, tougher than the toughies. Smarter than the smarties.

Scrooge opened the cage and Poe flew out. He didn’t go very far but hovered in the air. 

“You’re not to touch a feather on Lena’s head,” Poe warned.

“I donnae intend to make promises I cannae keep,” Scrooge rejoined. 

“You won’t hurt Lena,” Poe repeated. “Because when Magica restores me, and she will, and I discover you’ve hurt my daughter, there will be hell to pay.”

Poe flew off and Mrs. Beakley scowled.

“Did you intend to vex our only chance at getting the children out?” Mrs. Beakley snapped.

“He isn’t our only chance,” Scrooge scoffed. “There’s always Boyd.”

“The insane shapeshifter?” Mrs. Beakley said flatly. “Huey’s best friend.”

“Yes, him.”

“Do you have any plans that couldn’t go awry?” she snapped. 

“Ach, this’ll work out,” Scrooge said. “Besides, we dinnae say we were going to hurt Lena. We just couldn’t promise anything.”

“And you really think he’ll care about that distinction?” she huffed.

Scrooge smiled coldly. “If he wants to keep his hide, he will.”

* * *

Poe flew to the Night Court post haste, thinking over what he’d heard the two of them say. He’d never heard of Boyd, but it was possible that he’d appeared in Court after Poe and Lena had been separated. Boyd wasn’t his problem, however. Lena was. Lena and the mess his sister Magica had put her into.

He encountered a barrier coming to the Night Court, which hadn’t been here before. Instead of slowing down, he sped up and passed through it. Other than the air smelling rotten, there was little change. He landed, surveying his surroundings. Nothing appeared to have changed fundamentally since he’d been here last and he wended his way toward the palace.

This time, when he hit a barrier, he fell. The palace was not admitting him. He looked down at the guards and they threw their spears at him. Yelping, Poe flew higher and the poles intertwined, becoming snakes that constricted his body. Poe struggled, falling to the ground with a painful thud that probably would’ve killed him if he weren’t magical. As it was, his ears rang and he was dazed.

“What do you think?” a night elf said to the other. “Should we leave him as demon food?”

“Might as well,” the second elf scoffed. It opened the palace doors and dangled Poe upside down, snakes still constricting his body, and then, once it reached the throne room, flung Poe down beside a girl demon who looked vaguely familiar. 

The girl stared at him. She had black scales on her face, bat wings, and a tail with spikes on it. Yet there was something oddly human about her eyes. Her beak trembled like she was about to cry, but all that came out was a whimper. The snakes released him, but he was too stunned to move away. Would the girl eat him? It didn’t look that way.

_ Was  _ she a demon? She seemed trapped halfway between. The girl drew her knees to her chest and rested her head atop them. She was shaking and when she opened her beak, only sibilant hisses ensued.

“I don’t suppose you’d rethink eating me, would you?” Poe said. 

The girl blinked, taken aback. He sensed a working mind behind that terrified expression. Scowling, the demon’s brow furrowed and she scrutinized him. She had no way of recognizing him; Poe hadn’t had a good look at himself since he’d been changed into a raven. If the demon girl had been in this Court before his departure, she wouldn’t have known him. He certainly didn’t know her.

Frustrated, the girl stared at him. Her beak moved slowly like she was mouthing something, but he had no idea what she was trying to communicate.

“Oh, look, a new pet for my pet,” Magica crooned and he looked up to find his sister yanking on the demon girl’s leash. The girl yelped and Poe blinked. That voice...now that it wasn’t hissing or whimpering, it sounded familiar. He knew that cry of pain. Somewhere. 

The girl tugged at the collar about her neck and then screamed when electricity shot through her. She fell limp to the floor.

“What do you think? Should we keep it?” Magica crooned. She kicked the demon girl over onto her back and then pressed her heel into the girl’s stomach. The girl glowered back at her with hatred in her gaze and Poe could see the magic link between them. It was like she was feeding off of her.

“Magica?” Poe said.

Magica paused, staring down at the raven. “Poe? I thought you were dead.”

“I was imprisoned by Scrooge McDuck and the Light Court,” he answered. “I’m here for his nephew and the girls.”

Magica blinked and then kicked the girl onto her stomach. The casual way she abused her sent chills down Poe’s spine, though he wasn’t sure why the girl’s fate was his concern. The girl surged forward, lunging at Magica, and Magica sneered, using magic to arrest her movements.

“Keep fighting me,” Magica said. “You’ll only turn into a fully-fledged demon that much faster. That’s what you want, isn’t it? Wanton destruction? Just say the word.”

“You didn’t have that demon before,” Poe said slowly.

“A lot has changed since you’ve been away,” Magica said, serene. “But come. We need to make up for the lost time. And I need to turn you back into your normal form. Honestly, have you been a raven for ten years? Feh.”

She gestured for Poe to follow him and he did so, but not without a last backward glance at the demon girl. There was something so familiar about her. He almost had it, but it was eluding him. Magica closed the doors on her and Poe cast the demon girl out of his mind. He wasn’t here for her, after all. It didn’t matter what happened to her.

* * *

Poe. That was who Magica had said the bird was. Lena thought she recognized the name, but it was hard to tell. It was difficult to think and her thoughts flowed like molasses. When she thought at all, it was in images. Otherwise, stringing words together grew increasingly difficult. She was losing herself.

She remembered pain and fear. Terror for those she loved (who?) and pain from her mistress. So much pain. And hatred. Lena hated her mistress so much that it threatened to sweep everything else away. 

Poe. He sounded familiar. His voice...felt familiar. Lena shook her head and growled, frustrated with herself. He had looked at her like she was more than this, but that was impossible. Lena had never been more than a demon, hadn’t she?

She thought she remembered love, but it was dim compared to her loathing and fury. She touched her cheeks and growled, angry at herself for crying again. She wasn’t weak. She would kill the next person who said that she was.

Kill...that wasn’t like her. But Lena couldn’t remember who she was or what she’d been like. 

“Lena!” 

Lena whipped her head toward her name and found a familiar-looking girl with a pink bow standing near the throne room entrance. Beside her was another familiar-looking girl with curly black hair. How had they gotten here? How had they gotten past her mistress?

“Listen to me!” the girl with the bow said. “We’re going to save you!”

“As soon as it is physically possible,” the other girl promised. 

Lena shook her head. She wasn’t in need of saving. Was she? 

Worse, Lena blinked and they were gone. They’d never been here at all, had they? Magica had set them as apparitions to taunt her. Lena roared in rage.

Kill. She would kill someone. Maybe then the pain would end. Maybe then her mistress would leave her alone. 

  
  


* * *

Webby and Violet had been herded back into their room. Violet had tried to project themselves into the throne room to reassure Lena, but what they’d seen hadn’t been very reassuring. Lena was transforming more and more into a demon and while there was recognition in her gaze, it had been vague. Webby didn’t want to admit it, but it scared her. She was losing her best friend.

And she still had no idea what had befallen Dewey. They were trapped with no information and no way out. Webby wouldn’t accept the latter and as for the former, she’d figure it out somehow.

Wherever Dewey was, he was no longer within earshot of them. Webby hadn’t heard him scream in a while, but she wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or not. It could mean that they’d stopped hurting him or whatever they’d been doing or it could mean that he’d fallen unconscious.

“There must be a way to reverse Lena’s curse,” Violet said. She was pacing the room. 

“And rescue her and Dewey,” Webby agreed. They hadn’t come up on it yet, but they would. Webby had faith. She had to.

She wished she could transform into a dragon and storm the palace. Or, better yet, teleport through walls and find Dewey that way. Her heart ached. Did Dewey reciprocate? Now really wasn’t the time to worry about it, but it crossed her mind anyway. Determined, she shunted it away and discovered Violet staring at her.

“What?” Webby asked.

“Perhaps we had better see whether our friendship bracelets can assist Lena,” Violet murmured. “Before there’s nothing left of her to help.”

  
  



	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two updates in two days. Go me. XD 
> 
> I should focus more on Dewey. I just wasn’t in the mood today. XD

Dewey Duck slumped against the bed in his lavish suite. He was too tired to poke at the food that they brought him; being mentally tortured and made to feel like he’d been physically tortured was draining. Magica hadn’t dared to touch him physically, but his body ached as if she had. He ought to eat--he was famished. Before now, he hadn’t known you could be too tired to eat. 

The food didn’t appear poisoned, though he guessed if Magica didn’t want to torture him, she probably wouldn’t have poisoned him either. Groaning, Dewey draped himself, prostrate, on the bed. He didn’t want to move unless acted upon by an external force. 

He closed his eyes, forced them open, and then closed them again. It was too difficult to stay awake. 

* * *

Webby discovered that she could travel in the opposite direction from their suite. They couldn’t head out of the palace, but they could explore further within it. They avoided the servants when they could. Unable to find willing bodies to serve them, the Night Court had ensorcelled hapless creatures into doing their bidding. In a trance, the servants behaved as if they were already half-dead. It gave Webby the creeps.

Three doors down from their suite, she discovered an open door and pushed it open. Dewey was flat on the bed and Webby rushed to him. She turned him over and fretted that he’d been hurt. A quick scan determined that he hadn’t been harmed, but not all wounds were physical. 

Violet took Dewey’s heart rate on his wrist and frowned.

“What is it?” Webby pressed. 

“He appears to be sleeping, but he didn’t notice you moving him,” she observed. Webby frowned too; while she was relieved that Dewey looked fine, she was wondering just what she’d heard earlier. What had Magica done to him? She caressed his cheek and Dewey jerked, eyelids fluttering open. 

“Oh,” he said, his voice slurred from sleep. “Hey, Webs.”

Then he passed out again. Webby groaned, tempted to shake him awake, but she didn’t want to agitate him. On her wrist, her friendship bracelet warmed and she glanced at it. Violet was studying hers, which was also glowing. 

“There is nothing that we can do for Dewey now,” Violet said. “Lena, on the other hand, we may be able to help.”

She sat on the bed beside Webby and Dewey and offered her hand. Webby took it and, with her free hand, held Dewey’s left hand. His wrist glowed and she remembered that Lena had made them all friendship bracelets. She hadn’t expected Dewey to be wearing his. 

“It should be stronger with his addition, even if he’s asleep,” Violet commented. Webby nodded, closed her eyes, and concentrated. Projecting was easier this time, perhaps because of Dewey’s assistance, perhaps because they were more practiced in it. 

On Lena’s wrist, the friendship bracelet glowed. She was in the same position that she’d been left in before, attached to the throne by a leash. Her eyes had transformed from their normal color to yellow and now black. Webby’s heart clenched. 

“Lena? It’s us. You know us, don’t you?” Webby said.

Lena shook her head. Maybe Webby ought to be glad that Lena could still understand them and respond, albeit minimally. Then again, she didn’t recognize them. Webby wished she could join her in person, but the spell Magica had cast prevented them from reaching the throne room. Clearly, she didn’t want to take the chance that Violet and Webby would bust Lena out.

“You remember us,” Violet cajoled. 

Lena shook her head again and then clapped a hand to her temples. Her face spasmed in pain and she hissed a single word. 

“We’re going to rescue you somehow,” Webby promised. For a few moments, Lena’s eyes bled back to normal. She shook her head frantically and looked panicked. However, when she spoke, she was incomprehensible. Realizing this, Lena growled and pounded a fist on her thigh. 

Shaking her head again, Lena hissed again. It might’ve been Webby’s imagination, but she thought she understood her. Either she was growing accustomed to her speech or Lena had tried to communicate with her.

A shadow moved in the background, too fast for Webby to track, not with her attention on Lena. Beside Webby, Violet stiffened. 

“Pink, no.”

Lena looked startled that she’d been comprehensible and then spoke again. “I deserved this.”

“How could you say that?” Webby asked, simultaneously relieved that she could have a conversation with Lena and distressed by what Lena was saying. 

Then, to Webby’s dismay, Lena slipped the friendship bracelet off her wrist. Webby and Violet were jolted back to Dewey’s room and Webby’s beak hung open. Had Lena just repudiated them? She loved them. She’d said it before. Was she trying to protect them? Why would she think that she’d deserved it? 

Her heart was breaking for her. 

Webby’s friendship bracelet was cool to the touch now. Unnerved, she exchanged glances with Violet. Lena wouldn’t toss aside that bracelet. It meant too much to her. Didn’t it?

* * *

Magica cackled, pleased with herself for having interrupted Lena’s stupid little seance. Lena wouldn’t have been capable of speech anyway, but the twits didn’t know that. They’d bought the act hook, line, and sinker. All it had taken was concealing herself in the throne room, stealing the friendship bracelet, and then turning Lena into a puppet. Hell, Lena was already three-quarters of the way there.

She _did_ deserve what she’d gotten. She’d been disobedient for far too long and Magica should never have tolerated it. Insubordinate brat.

Now that she’d transformed Poe back into his normal form, she’d left him to tidy himself up and make himself presentable for dinner. Magica returned to her throne room and studied Lena. The demon before her was barely her niece, yet she recognized the friendship bracelet Magica casually tossed around. Her gaze hooked on it and she growled, baring her teeth.

“That is _not_ yours,” Lena snarled.

Magica laughed. “You couldn’t speak to Webster or Purple, but you can talk to me? Oh, yes, fine, I understand you. But no one else will. Well, maybe Poe, but Poe won’t be paying much attention to you. He thinks you’re just another demon I leashed.

“What do you think, dumb, dumb little Lena? Should I set it on fire?” Magica proposed, her eyes alight with malice.

It had taken Lena a good twenty minutes to string together a sentence. It would probably take another twenty for another coherent thought from her. Magica watched, feeding off Lena’s frustration and hatred. She scoffed at the friendship bracelet and debated setting it ablaze just for Lena’s reaction. Her niece’s thought processes were so slow that she might not notice right away. Or she might be propelled into mindless action. Decisions, decisions.

Poe arrived in the doorway and briefly put an end to Magica’s thoughts. Not knowing why she did it, Magica pocketed the bracelet. 

“Sister dear,” Poe said, “haven’t you had enough of punishing that poor demon? Shouldn’t you leave it to the rest of the court?”

His eyes glowed with malice, just like hers, and she beamed at him. She’d missed her twin. Life just wasn’t as much fun without him. 

“Her? She’s our main entertainment tonight,” Magica replied and yanked Lena to her feet with the leash. Lena gasped and then looked at her father. 

“Poe,” Lena forced out. Magica held her breath, worrying that Lena might spoil the game. She didn’t intend to tell Poe about his daughter, not if she could get away with it. As much as Poe adored Magica, she knew he’d be livid about how Magica was treating his daughter. 

Hmm, Lena had managed another thought within five minutes. Damn. Magica owed Ratface ten bucks.

Magica tugged her unwilling niece behind her and they made their way to the dining room. Poe looked thoughtful, but he hadn’t recognized Lena for who she was, thankfully. Snickering, Magica kicked Lena in the corner with all of the other imps and demons. They’d be fed by a sacrifice; what usually happened was that the sacrifice threw food at them. If there wasn’t enough, which there never was, the sacrifice ended up being eaten too.

“The bracelet,” Lena grated. Magica frowned. She was oddly hung up on that friendship bracelet. Perhaps, when dinner grew boring, Magica would throw the bracelet into the nearest fire. 

“That demon speaks,” Poe observed. The dining table was long and dominated the room. Magica, naturally, sat at the head of the table and gestured for her brother to sit at her right hand. Overhead, pixies cast flickering lights over the food. Others ought to dribble in, including her jester Flintheart Glomgold. Boyd didn’t usually eat with them; dinner was something of a free-for-all and the children could end up hurt as a result. Magica encouraged it.

“Oh? You can understand her?” Magica said, tearing off a chicken leg from a rotisserie chicken before her. 

“Can’t everyone?” Poe asked, befuddled.

“She never says anything important,” she scoffed. “Isn’t that right, demon?”

Lena snarled and Magica reached for a candle a couple of places down on the table. She dangled the friendship bracelet near it and watched Lena’s face. The cogs were moving slowly. She knew that her aunt was about to do something evil, but had not completely connected the dots.

Poe snatched the bracelet out of Magica’s hands. “Is this a friendship bracelet? Why would a demon have a friendship bracelet?”

“She stole it,” Magica lied. 

Poe tossed the friendship bracelet back to Lena and Lena caught it deftly. Shooting her aunt a disgusted look, Lena placed the bracelet back on her wrist and fingered it. 

“What did you do that for?” Magica snapped. “You’re going to spoil my fun.”

Poe smiled back. “It’s too early for the entertainment. Let’s see how she reacts when you steal it away from her with the entire Court watching.”

Magica grinned back. “I love the way you think, Poe.”

Nonetheless, when Poe glanced away at Lena, his expression was troubled. He fingered a lock of his hair, the one that resembled Lena’s in the way that it stuck out. 

“Where is my daughter, anyway?” he asked. “Shouldn’t she be here?”

“Oh, she’s around,” Magica crooned. “Don’t worry.”

Everything was proceeding nicely. Now all she needed was for Scrooge to appear and beg for his “favorite nephew” back. Oh, she knew that he wouldn’t, but it was fun to imagine. Speaking of which, why had Scrooge let Poe go? Poe had never explained himself properly.

“So, Scroogie just let you go?” Magica said, sipping her wine.

“Not exactly,” he allowed. He frowned. “First, tell me where Lena is.”

The demon jerked her head and Magica swallowed a curse. Lena still recognized her name. She wasn’t entirely mindless yet.

“I told you,” Magica said, feeling slightly defensive. “She’s around.”

“Where is she?” he demanded. 

“You haven’t seen me for ten years either,” she reminded him. “Why don’t we catch up and then I’ll see if my night elves can locate your precious daughter?”

Poe reluctantly settled down, but he looked like he didn’t trust her. Magica would deal with that when she had to.

She clapped her hands to bring in Glomgold. She’d stall for as long as she could. Poe didn’t need to know that his daughter was a demon. Lena could be Magica’s pet for a while longer. If only Poe hadn’t given Lena back her bracelet.

What was so important about it, anyway?

* * *

Lena cradled the friendship bracelet to her. She couldn’t say why, but it felt like the bracelet was the only thing keeping her fragile sanity intact. She watched the “entertainment” caper and noticed that her aunt was keeping people away from the demons. Lena’s mind replayed what those two girls had said to her and her chest ached. Tears pricked her eyes again.

If she was a demon, then why did she have a name? And why did those girls know it?

Magica had lied. She _could_ understand her niece. So, it appeared, could this Poe. He appeared like a gender-bent version of her aunt, which meant something important to Lena. She knew this. It flitted just at the edge of her mental tongue, tantalizingly close and yet out of reach.

Magica clapped and rose to her feet. She tugged on Lena’s leash to bring her back to her and Lena growled, slashing at her aunt with her newfound claws. Magica laughed and retaliated by yanking the bracelet off her wrist. Lena stopped dead as she held it over an open flame. 

“ _No_ ,” Lena cried, anguished. The bracelet glowed with blue magic. Lena reached for it and Poe pushed her away. 

Magica cackled. “Beg me for it. _Grovel_. What do you think, brother? Is that enough? Or should we make her do something else?”

Poe frowned, thoughtful. “Perhaps we’re being too cruel. After all, it’s not the demon’s fault she doesn’t understand what she’s doing.”

Poe. Magica’s brother. Poe. That made him...she was so close to figuring it out…

“But why stop now?” Magica said with a pout. “Look how upset she’s getting.”

Poe. Her _father_. The realization took Lena’s breath away and she almost didn’t react in time when Magica let the bracelet burn. Panicking, Lena threw herself over the open flame and beat the bracelet out before it burned to cinders. The Court rang with laughter, especially when Lena discovered that she was on fire. She rolled around and Magica yanked her back just as the bracelet crumbled into nothing. 

“Webby! Violet!” Lena cried, not sure why the names had come to mind, but knowing that they had something to do with the bracelet. The Court continued to mock Lena; their raucous laughter was infuriating. Rage crept through the misery and she whirled on Magica again. The leash tightened, the collar sending shock waves through her body. Lena fought against it. 

Poe slammed his goblet down and the room fell silent. Lena stopped struggling and fell to her knees. It was hard to breathe and spots had appeared before her gaze. She whimpered in pain. 

“Where is my daughter, Magica?” he demanded and his tone was dangerous. Magica flinched at the fury in his voice. 

“Oh, I’m sure that I don’t know,” she lied. “Come on, sit down, enjoy yourself.”

“Magica,” Poe said and his teeth were gritted. “Is that demon my daughter?”

“Whatever would give you that impression?” Magica asked, smiling. “I never said anything like that.”

“ _Did you turn my daughter into a demon?_ ” Poe demanded. His eyes blazed with fury. “Tell me you didn’t, sister dear. Tell me that the demon whose bracelet you just burned isn’t Lena.”

Magica faltered. Poe spun around to face Lena and Lena’s heart hammered in her chest.

“Technically, it’s not Lena,” Magica said and he turned to face her. “Not anymore.”

“What. Did. You. Do.” 

“She disobeyed me. You know what we do to people who disobey us, Poe,” Magica said, unrepentant. “She’s been willful for the last ten years and refusing to do as I commanded. She acted as if she was better than I am. Better than _me_? She deserved to be punished.”

Poe knelt beside Lena and tilted her head toward him. “Lena? Is that you?”

Lena didn’t understand the question. It was like, without the bracelet, she was losing herself in bigger chunks. All she saw before her was a man who might be her father but who looked uncannily like her enemy. She pushed Poe away and hissed, baring her teeth at him.

“See? She’s turning completely into a demon now,” Magica said, smug. “Soon she won’t even respond to her name. She’ll do my bidding, _finally_.”

Lena growled, standing. Her feathers had gone completely black and even the pink streak in her hair had vanished. 

“Hmm...who has earned my disfavor…” Magica mused. “I know. Attack Flintheart Glomgold.”

“What?!” Glomgold yelped. He dashed from the room and Magica released Lena’s leash. Lena gave chase, not knowing why she was doing it, only knowing that if she didn’t, more pain would ensue. It felt like she was watching herself from outside, seeing her body knock Glomgold to the ground and slash at him, all the while aware that she’d never do it in her right mind.

“Come back, demon,” Magica crooned and, like an obedient soldier, Lena trooped back in. She was covered in blood and she didn’t think that it was hers.

“Much better, don’t you agree?” she said, draping an arm about Lena’s shoulders. “Oh, don’t give me that look. There’s nothing in her to reach anymore. The Lena you knew is poof, gone. This one is much better.”

Magica cackled. “This one will attack her friends with no remorse. Right, Lena?”

“No,” Lena snapped. “No, no, no, no!”

Magica sniffed. “Hmm, looks like she needs a little work after all. Oh, well. Can’t all be perfect on the first go.”

“Turn her back, Magica,” Poe said quietly, dangerously.

“What fun would that be?” she pouted. “Come on. Why don’t you enjoy her with me for a while? Then tell me you’d rather have the old, boring Lena back.”

“Turn her back,” he ordered.

Magica sighed. “You were showing such promise, Poe. Guards--arrest him. Only until he comes to his senses, that is. And take this thing off my hands.”

She handed off Lena’s leash to another guard. “Torture it until it knows better.”


	8. Chapter 8

Dewey woke up ravenous. The food had grown cold since the servants had placed it out, but he didn’t care. It wasn’t until he was halfway to gorging himself that he realized Webby and Violet were also present. He grinned, launching himself at Webby and hugging her. She hugged him fiercely back; her grip on him was tight enough to be painful. 

“Uh, Webby? You’re hurting me,” Dewey gasped out and she reluctantly loosened her grip. She didn’t relinquish it, however, and he put down the chicken leg. 

She scowled and inspected his throat. The cut hadn’t healed, but when she touched it, he discovered that it had scabbed over. It would heal, then; it’d just take a while longer than a normal faerie injury. His heart pounded between the way she was looking at him and her hands now on his cheeks.

“You’re okay?” she asked and he nodded.

“I mean, I feel kinda like an eighteen wheeler ran over me, but I’m okay,” he said and she nodded, still watching him with that odd gleam in her eyes. 

“Uh, why are you looking at me like that?” he asked. 

She smiled mischievously and then, leaning forward, brushed her beak against his. She hugged him tighter again and, too surprised at the kiss to object to being squeezed again, he kissed her back. He hadn’t known she’d felt that way, although she was normally pretty effusive in her affection. Maybe he’d been too preoccupied with other matters to realize it.

Violet cleared her throat, but he ignored her. Instead, he pulled Webby against him and, despite everything else going on, despite being trapped in an enemy stronghold, his heart leaped. She was his! They’d always had a strange chemistry, ever since they were children, but he hadn’t expected this. He was relieved and thrilled simultaneously.

They didn’t pull apart right away and it was only when Violet cleared her throat right next to them that they startled, separating. 

“While I am glad for both of you,” Violet said and Dewey heard her roll her eyes without even looking at her to make sure, “we have other matters to attend to.”

“Oh, right,” Webby said, scarlet. “Sorry.”

“Yeah, what’s been going on?” Dewey said. “I’ve been out of it.”

“Lena’s aunt Magica, the head of the Night Court, has turned her into a demon,” Violet informed him. “Lena has little to no recognition of us and we are only able to project ourselves into the throne room. We cannot go near it physically nor can we venture out of the palace. There’s a hex upon us preventing it.”

“We’re not sure what’s going on outside of the palace,” Webby admitted. “The servants are in a daze and won’t talk to us, either.”

“They know we’re gone by now,” Dewey said, leaning up against Webby. Did this make them boyfriend and girlfriend now? Should he ask? No, wait, now was not the time to do that. But still. 

“I’m sure Uncle Scrooge has sent in reinforcements,” Dewey said.

“Neither of you are grasping the full import of this,” Violet said, shaking her head. “By capturing you, Lena has started a war.”

“Maybe it won’t come to that,” Webby said. “Besides, she didn’t want to capture him.”

“Intentions matter little here,” Violet pointed out. “There is already a blood feud between Clan McDuck and de Spell.”

Dewey frowned, his good mood evaporating. 

“Also, I believe Magica allowing us to be together was an oversight on her part,” Violet added. “One she will probably rectify soon.”

Dewey glanced from one girl to the other. Webby nodded, looking grim. Dewey wasn’t sure what had driven that look, though. Perplexed, he glanced at Violet, but no information was forthcoming.

“What?” he asked.

“We’re going to be separated again,” Webby said. “But not without a fight.”

Dewey sprang to his feet in a fighting pose, but his weakness betrayed him. Webby caught him before he crashed to the floor and placed him back on the bed as if he weighed nothing. Sometimes, it surprised him how easily Webby lifted people and things that seemed far too heavy for her. She had reached the age of majority, which made her an adult in faerie culture, but she remained slim, unlike her grandmother.

“Statistically, depending on how big a force they bring to bear, this could be a very lopsided fight,” Violet said, grimacing.

“They might have the numbers, but we have a Webby!” Dewey said proudly.

Webby flushed but grinned good-naturedly. “Well, yeah.”

“We’ll win,” he said boldly.

“Maybe,” Webby said, but her smile slipped. They lapsed into silence for a bit. 

An actual war? Would there be a war because of Lena’s actions? She hadn’t even hurt him (he thought as he touched his neck self-consciously). Yes, she’d kidnapped him, but she hadn’t intended to hurt him. She hadn’t even wanted to do it. Then again, as Violet said, intentions mattered little. Wars had been fought over less.

He didn’t  _ want  _ a war between the Light and Night Courts. Sure, he could prove himself and become an amazing general who led armies, if Uncle Scrooge and his mom ever let him. But, the small prudent voice in his head that sounded a lot like Huey argued, people  _ died  _ in wars. One act like that was enough to kill people? 

And what about Lena? What was going to happen to her?

“We need more information,” Webby said, frowning thoughtfully. “There has to be a library somewhere around here.”

“I concur,” Violet said. “I doubt the library would be located near the entrance which means, unless there are curses to prevent us from reaching it, we should be able to access it.”

“And maybe while we’re there, we’ll figure out how to help Lena,” Webby said.

“One thing at a time,” Violet warned her. 

“Oh, I know,” Webby said and intertwined her fingers with Dewey’s. She kissed him on the cheek. “Maybe if we leave him here, no one will know that we found him and they won’t move him.”

“Possible,” Violet said. “Unlikely, but possible.”

“We’ll see,” Webby said. “If you find anything out, you’ll tell us, right?”

“Hey, you sure I can’t tag along?” he asked. “I could be on the lookout?”

He was desperate not to be separated from her again. He didn’t know what, exactly, would happen if they split up, but he didn’t want to risk it. The last time he’d lost her, he’d been tortured mentally. He shuddered and could see Webby caving. She didn’t want to abandon him either.

“It’s not a good idea,” Violet warned.

“Since when have I ever cared about that?” Dewey replied, beaming. Webby faltered.

“If you stay on lookout and away from us, it might work,” she allowed.

“Are you missing the part that his very absence from this room could be considered suspicious?” Violet demanded.

“They didn’t tell me that I couldn’t wander the palace,” he said and stood back up only to keel over again. “Ugh, I forgot about that. I guess I can’t be lookout.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Webby said and kissed him on the forehead. “We’ll let you know if anything happens. And we’ll be back as soon as we can, okay? I love you.”

Dewey grinned, feeling like a fool. “I love you too.”

Violet rolled her eyes. “Could we please get going? I fear that time is slipping away from us.”

Webby stepped away from him and, feeling again like he was losing half of himself, he watched the girls leave. Now all he had left to entertain himself was cold food. They hadn’t even left him a TV or a book. His cell phone probably wouldn’t have worked; not that he could’ve used it anyway, since they’d confiscated it.

Groaning, he let his head hit the pillow. He didn’t want to lie here and sleep. That felt too much like something Louie would do. Conversely, he was too weak to get up and follow the girls, no matter how much he wanted to. Man, this sucked.

Maybe he’d rest his eyes for a little bit. Not sleep, just rest his eyes.

He rolled over and fell fast asleep.

* * *

Lena had fragmented memories of the two guards approaching her and attempting to torture her. It hadn’t ended well for them. She hadn’t killed them, much like she hadn’t murdered Flintheart Glomgold, just knocked them around until they left her alone. She had enough presence of mind not to want to kill anyone. Besides, for all that Glomgold was a royal pain in the ass, he wasn’t a psychopath like her aunt. 

Lena clung to what little she recalled, because it was flitting away. When she touched her wrist, she knew the friendship bracelet was gone, but couldn’t remember what it signified. It left her with a hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach and she kept crying, but she didn’t know why. 

Her aunt hadn’t realized that the torture hadn’t worked or else was busy dominating someone else in Court. Lena was given free rein in the palace and she stumbled down the steps into the dungeons. Something was calling her, but she couldn’t identify what. It was just a vague feeling that she had.

She stopped in front of a particular cell and cocked her head. The man looked familiar, though her thought processes from earlier hadn’t returned. 

“Lena,” the man sighed and she stared at him. Yes, that was her name. “You don’t remember me, do you?”

The man knelt down between the bars and reached out toward her. She hissed, withdrawing a few steps. She did not want him to touch her. The amulet at his throat flashed.

“I may be able to turn you back,” he said. “I’m not certain, however, because Magica may have locked your curse into her magical signature.”

None of those words made any sense to her. She just watched him warily. If he made any sudden moves, she’d lunge.

“It’s Poe. Your father,” he said and then sighed. “The reason Magica turned you into a demon. She’s always hated you, you know. Always resented your existence for taking me away from her. We were quite close as children and young adults. Two halves of a whole, you might say.”

Lena stared. Why was he still talking to her? Didn’t he understand that she didn’t comprehend anything he was saying? It would take too long for what he’d said to penetrate her increasingly low IQ.

“I can never atone for what my sister did to you. But I can try, if you’ll let me.”

She was sure these words were important, though they sounded like nonsense to her. She shook her head at him and felt Magica’s beckoning. Without looking back, she bolted up the steps and returned to her mistress’s side. She loathed her aunt more and more and, as she did, she fell further and further from herself.

* * *

After spending an inordinate amount of time in the library, Webby thought she had the knack down. She and Violet, holding hands and humming, their friendship bracelets glowing and warm to the touch, teleported into the throne room. It wasn’t technically a violation of the curse Magica had placed upon them keeping them from leaving the room--they couldn’t exit or enter the throne room through conventional means. The spell only transported them from place to place and once it ran out, they’d be back in the library.

Lena was back to being tied to Magica’s throne and Webby hissed at the collar around her best friend’s neck. The throne room had a few lingering malcontents fighting over something or another, but Webby paid them no mind and they did likewise. 

Instead, she focused on Lena, who stared back at them. Her friendship bracelet was gone and perhaps that accounted for the blank look in her gaze as she beheld them. Undeterred, Webby sat beside Lena and Violet joined her on Lena’s other side. Lena didn’t attack, just looked from one of them to the other.

“Do you remember us?” Violet queried.

If she did, she was slow to come by it. Webby waited and squeezed her hand. A dim light sparked in Lena’s gaze and Lena squeezed back. 

“So you do remember us,” Violet said.

“We’ll figure out a way to turn you back,” Webby promised. “There has to be a spell in Magica’s library that does it.”

“One I hardly doubt she’d have lying around for us to stumble upon,” Violet pointed out. She peered into Lena’s gaze and sighed. “Slight cognitive functioning, by the look of it. She’s worse off than she was when we last saw her.”

Lena released their hands and Webby stared, but it was only for the older teenager to touch their friendship bracelets. She glanced at her wrist mournfully, where her matching one normally rested. 

Lena hissed and it sounded, though maybe Webby was being hopeful, like she’d said, “Pink.”

But that was preposterous. You couldn’t hiss that any more than you could hiss “Violet”.

They sat in silence for a moment. Lena was docile, though the lingering blood on her clothes gave Webby pause. Lena could be violent, but not like that. 

“Hmm,” Violet said. “You don’t appear to be injured.”

Lena shook her head. 

They heard sounds approaching the throne room and Webby and Violet tensed. Lena stiffened too, her black eyes glowing as she leaned forward. Magica was entering, which meant it was time for Webby and Violet to exit. However, Webby wasn’t feeling very much like being compliant. She and Violet stood, taking defensive positions over Lena.

Lena tried to stand, but the leash only allowed her so much leeway. Therefore, she was crouching. 

Fury burned in Webby’s breast. She wanted to hurt Magica for all that she’d done to Lena and Dewey. Here was her chance, if the spell could hold long enough for retribution. Of course, Magica could banish them from the room, but Webby hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

“I might’ve known I’d find you here,” Magica scoffed. “There’s no point in talking to her. She can’t understand a word you’re saying.”

“Reverse the curse, Magica,” Webby demanded.

“You and I both know that that’s not going to happen,” Magica scoffed. She frowned, studying Lena behind them. “She should be tearing you limb from limb.”

She growled. “Lena, attack!”

Lena growled back, low and menacing. Her eyes briefly flashed their normal color and, in response, she took Webby’s and Violet’s hands in hers.

“What do you mean you won’t attack? I’m your  _ master _ ,” Magica growled back. “How dare you disobey a command.”

Lena needed them, but Webby could feel time running out on her spell. She and Violet exchanged uneasy glances; they could both sense it, then. 

“Attack, damn you, or I’ll hurt you again!” Magica swore. Lena didn’t budge. She glared defiance and while Webby was proud of her, she was also worried, because her feathers turned black and now were tipped in crimson. The harder she fought Magica, the further she drifted from her normal self.

“You don’t care?” Magica said, raising her eyebrows. “Why are they so important?”

“Because we love her,” Webby responded, feeling the tug back toward the library. “And you’re just a hateful witch.”

She didn’t have time to warn Lena before they were whisked away, back to the library. Webby sighed, a pounding headache beginning in her temples. She massaged them and noted Violet staring at the book. The girls exchanged a look.

“She’ll punish her for her defiance,” Violet said quietly. “Lena’s stuck in an impossible position.”

“That’s why there has to be something here,” Webby said.

“Or someone,” Violet said. “Someone else has to want Lena back as badly as we do.”

“Morgana,” Webby said and Violet stared.

“I’ve never heard that name before.”

“Morgana is Darkwing Duck’s girlfriend. She’s a sorceress, just like Magica. She doesn’t come around the Light Court very often because she’s neutral, not really light-sided. But she could help if we could figure out a way to get a message out.”

Violet frowned, mulling this over. “That’s possible…”

“Boyd could help too, if we can find him,” Webby said. “He goes back and forth between the Courts.”

“This is a large palace,” Violet reminded her. “And we’re bound to it. The Night Court is more than just the palace. It’s the surrounding territories, too. What used to be St. Canard and Mouseton.”

And the Light Court was Duckburg, Webby knew. That had been long ago, before their powers had come into effect. Scrooge might remember such a time, but Webby was far too young. She nodded to Violet.

“But it’s worth a shot,” Violet allowed. “If we can avert a war, that would be even better.”

“In the meanwhile,” Webby said and gave the hundreds of books a pained glance, “it’s back to studying.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, another cliffhanger. XD Also, the only thing that stops a bad sorceress with magic is a good sorceress with magic, hence Morgana. Also, I love Morgana and since Darkwing Duck is canon in the series...why not?


End file.
